I went on a weekend trip to visit Uluru, and though at first glance, I was actually disappointed, I quickly became as obsessed with this large rock as any in my own rock collection. Seeing Uluru change colors both during sunset and sunrise was as captivating an experience as any I have ever had. Though I of course recommend this as a destination to anyone having the opportunity to travel to this far away and remote venue, the moral of this story has nothing to do with the location itself, but rather with an experience I had twice during my visit.

It was an experience of silence.

On my first full day at Uluru, I escaped the tourist crowds, and wandered out to a secluded viewing area to see the rock. I found myself utterly alone, and I suddenly felt very, very small and insignificant in comparison to the enormous mass in front of me. To quote from my journal:

“I was the only person there and the silence was powerful. I felt completely at peace with myself and it was one of those few moments that I wished would last forever. Just me, the rock, and silence…”

That same night I was off to the “Sounds of Silence” dinner, recommended to me by an Australian friend. We went off to an area remote of the Ayers Rock Resort (where I was staying) for a dinner by campfire in the surrounding desert. We watched the sunset on Uluru, and after dinner, a fairly corny poem, ending in “now listen to the sounds of silence” was read to us, upon the completion of which, everyone remained startlingly quite for a solid 60 seconds. Though in the company of some of my fellow tourists, I was again in the presence of the rock, in silence.

I am certainly a person who does not like to be in silence, or to be silent myself. This may have been the only time in my life that I found myself surrounded by nothing but nature, both enjoying and reflecting in the silence.

Everywhere we turn and everywhere we go in our lives is usually filled with noise. We wake up in the morning and turn on the TV, and we leave our homes and either turn on the radio in our cars or listen to our iPods. Personally, I will admit that it is a rare moment when I am either not with other people, listening to music or watching TV, or doing anything else other than sitting in silence.

I find it very powerful that those moments at Uluru when I was surrounded by the sounds of silence are still enough at the forefront of my mind that I think about them from time to time. I find it very powerful that in those moments at Uluru, I felt at peace and I felt the silence louder than any song or TV show that I listen to.

Whenever I remember the powerful sounds of silence I was privy to in the middle of Australia, I wish I could return. With our digital cable, our high speed Internet, and our MP3s, it can sometimes seem as if silence only comes to us when we sleep. Every time I think back to Uluru, I think that I need to find the sounds of silence in my own life all over again, and every time this happens, I remember that there is some sporting event on tv, some get-together, or some song that I should be dancing to.

What a shame because I miss the sounds of silence, and I want them back again.