The Silent Circle

It was a cool, breezy afternoon as five people gathered for meditation under the pergola at the Golden Oaks Mobile Park clubhouse. Golden Oaks is an ‘Over 55’ mobile home park where we live, and for the past three years, a group of us has gathered for meditation on Mondays and Thursdays from 5 PM to 5:40 PM. Arthur keeps time, and to denote start and finish, Charlie rings a bell from his Zen days at the San Francisco Zen Center. It is a relaxed gathering, and before the starting bell, there is often an easy conversation about our week, our health, our progeny, or our puzzlement with technology. But when the bell rings, we turn inward and commit to silence.

A few years back, out of an urge to sit with others, I posted a note on the clubhouse bulletin board asking if anyone was interested in meeting for meditation. One person came and then another and then another. There is no teacher, nor is there a particular practice advocated. After the sitting, I often read something from a teacher, ancient or contemporary, or a poem. Occasionally, there is a question, comment, or brief dialogue.

I unabashedly love our little sangha. It has never been promoted. It happened, more or less, by word of mouth. Sometimes we have ten sitters, sometimes only two, but the 40 minutes of silence are always powerful, regardless of how many show up. There is, among the participants a, palpable resonance in the silence, like a tuning fork, and you can’t help but feel as though there is some kind of healing taking place, not just among our circle but of the whole troubled world.

With no teacher or teaching, I often wonder what draws us back, week after week, to our silent circle. I suspect something at work beyond the apparent desire for a moment of quiet. I call it love in action.

-Ojai, 4/29/25