The sound of silence this Easter

MANILA, Philippines – We see the Net Gen (generation who grew up with the Internet) wired to their iPads, “liking” the latest exploits of friends on Facebook, or “following” their latest capers on Twitter. They do Skype, chat with people in their mobile phones and send paperwork through learning management systems like Blackboard. This generation reared in cyberspace has everything within the click of a button to communicate with one another.

But are they really connected with each other?

This was the question asked four decades ago by the duo, Simon and Garfunkel, in the song, The Sound of Silence, now a classic. As Art Garfunkel said in their intro to the concert Live in Haarlem, The Netherlands in 1966: “This is a song about the inability of people to communicate with each other, and not particularly internationally, but especially emotionally. So what you see around you are people unable to love each other. This is called The Sound of Silence.

“The song begins quietly, with a single bar of unaccompanied guitar tracery oscillating between three notes; the singers’ entry has Garfunkel with the melody and Paul Simon providing the harmony. The result is an ethereal texture, like a faintly glowing object in the sky with the worldly shadows darkening the earth below.” This was the account written in the book titled Simon and Garfunkel by Robert Matthey-Walker, in 1982.

We were in the grades when this song hit the charts, soon after the assassination of American President, John F. Kennedy — a senseless cruelty that devastated the world. Our pulse still quickened to it when we reached college, in a country writhing under the grips of Martial Law, especially when we discovered the existentialist writers. In particular, we harkened to the Algerian Albert Camus, who reworked the old myth of Sisyphus to try to convince us that happiness is possible despite the absurdity of life.

The pursuit of happiness is still an elusive quest. How can we be happy in a world where people are talking without speaking, hearing without listening, writing songs that voices never shared? Where no one dared to stir the sound of silence that is the alienation from one another? This is a world full of oxymorons — contradicting concepts and images.

Positive Psychology, advanced by Martin Seligman, in the tradition of Abraham Maslow, who identified the hierarchy of human needs, recognizes three levels of happiness.

The Pleasant Life  — pursuit of pleasure. But with time, our tastes for pleasure change and lose their attractiveness and we let them go. It is, thus, important to remember that since pleasure is fleeting, we have to increase our positivity to strengthen our resiliency, so we can cope better with unpleasant situations when they knock on our door.

The Good Life — pursuit of engagement. We are fully absorbed and feel such concentration with a deep involvement that makes the effort extremely satisfying. Here, we enjoy the respect of our peers and anticipate a future in our careers.

The Meaningful Life — pursuit of a purpose higher than oneself. Here, we are satisfied or happy because we feel we are contributing something that is truly meaningful not only to ourselves but more importantly for others, thus, bringing us to a larger sense of purpose.

The last is of course, the noblest pursuit that is worth reflecting on this Season of Lent. This is concerned with service to one’s brethrens, and not to the “neon gods” which Simon and Garfunkel condemned — the material things in life. This is loving one another, which is the only way to break the Sound of Silence. As Camus wrote, “We only know of one duty, and that is to love.”

Writer, painter, singer and minister Robert Fulghum reminded in his credo, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten: And it is still true, no matter how old you are — when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together. And what greater joy than to welcome Easter holding hands with our brethren in fellowship and compassion, heeding the exhortation of the one who laid down His life for us — to love one another as God loves us.