The Sound Of A Silent YEAH

I recently watched a short video of Paul Simon discussing his music. He said that of all the songs he has written, the one he believes is most likely to still be listened to 100 years from now is “The Sound of Silence.”

As I was walking this morning, I heard the song being played through one of those outdoor bell or chime speaker systems that turns melodies into something resembling old-school Muzak (but more beautiful, the bells are intoxicating). And yes, it confirmed for me that Simon is probably right.

When a melody becomes so recognizable that it can survive translation into ringing bells and still instantly be identified, there is a good chance that song is going to endure.

That song also reminds me of the old Buddhist koan:
“What is the sound of one hand clapping?”

As I understand it, the point is not to “solve” the riddle intellectually. The point is to sit with it long enough that you begin to experience something beyond ordinary thought. One hand clapping is silent… and yet, supposedly, if you listen closely enough, eventually you hear it.

I think getting on the Highway to YEAH is a little like this, too.

We are all searching for our Yeah.

Derek Sivers has a well-known phrase:
“If it’s not a Hell Yes, it’s a Hell No.”

I like that idea, although this version I am describing is quieter and less bombastic. I don’t think the Yeah always arrives as fireworks, certainty, and dramatic revelation.

Sometimes it arrives more like a persistent inner resonance.
A still, quiet voice.
Something felt in the heart that keeps returning.

My mom has another saying I love:
“If in doubt, leave it out.”

And I wrote recently about the importance of deciding what to leave out of our lives.

In a way, both my mom and Derek Sivers are pointing toward the same thing:
eliminating the noise.

Because locating the Sound of a Silent Yeah often begins by reducing the static.

We Close loops.
Remove distractions.
Let go of things that drain Our energy.
Reduce the number of competing voices in our lives.

Only then do we begin to hear what truly wants to remain.

In some ways, I think this is part of what the classic film The Graduate is really about.

The main character drifts through situations and relationships almost unconsciously, not fully understanding the magnitude of what he is doing or why he feels so disconnected from it all.

And then eventually, beneath all the confusion and noise, he encounters his Yeah.

Certainly Not perfectly or cleanly.
And just about as chaotically as can be.
But he feels it, deeply.

And That is the difference.

First we begin closing loops.
Then we start hearing the Yeahs more clearly.

Years ago, I used to watch a PBS mystery series about a medieval monk who solved crimes on the side. One detail from the show Has always stayed with me.

The monk described his monastic life as divided into three equal parts:
1. Devotion
2. Study
3. Work

The idea was that The structure itself helped eliminate distraction, reduce vice, conserve energy, and create a meaningful rhythm to life.

Most of us do not live that way now.

Why?

I will let you answer that question for yourself.

But I do think there is wisdom hidden there somewhere.

If your life became more intentional…
more simplified…
more aligned…

what would be the few things that truly deserve to remain part of nearly every normal day of your life?

Stephen Covey called these the Big Rocks.

I am calling them the Yeahs.

So today, perhaps spend a little time listening to the sound of silence.

And see if you can hear the Yeah quietly asking for your love, care, attention, and commitment.