Why silence, simplicity, and everyday moments have become my most trusted spiritual teachers
by Stacy Bremner, MA, RP
Growing Up in Noise, Growing Toward Quiet
Solitude is one of the ways I spend time with myself each day. I’ve written about journaling before, but solitude deserves its own place in this conversation. When I was growing up, the TV was on a lot. My mom liked daytime TV, and it was our family entertainment at night. As I look back, I feel grateful that the TV was off during meals and when company came over.
When I married at twenty, that background noise faded because my husband came from a family where TV was frowned upon. I didn’t mind. We didn’t watch news, sports, or much of anything. And when our first son was born, I watched TV even less. I didn’t want to expose him to the world of soap operas and daytime TV — the constant chatter that had shaped so much of my own childhood.
Without realizing it, I was creating silence. And in that silence, I began to meet myself.
Choosing Meaningful Nourishment
I’ve always gravitated toward things that engaged my mind and imagination — reading, music, games, being outside. When my boys were young, I read to them constantly and took them outdoors as much as possible. They grew up spending weekends on the family island, a place with no electricity, where nature was the entertainment and the teacher. Those years shaped all of us.
Later, when I began facilitating groups, The Artist’s Way became a positive influence. Julia Cameron introduces the idea of a week of reading deprivation, and I loved it. I expanded it for myself — no TV, no music, no distractions of any kind. I still live that way during the day. After work, I welcome music and a bit of TV, but the daylight hours are quiet.
That quiet is where ideas come, where answers surface, where something larger than my own thoughts can reach me.
Solitude as a Spiritual Doorway
In 2004, I learned something that expanded me: all of us can receive guidance through what are often called the Four Clairs — claircognizance (clear knowing), clairaudience (clear hearing), clairvoyance (clear seeing), and clairsentience (clear feeling). Most of us have one or two that come more naturally.
Mine is claircognizance. I use all of them, but “knowing” is the one that shows up most often.
When I receive a sudden insight, the perfect metaphor for a client, or an idea for my writing while I’m in the shower, I recognize that as something coming from beyond my own thinking mind. These moments feel like gifts, and I’ve learned to write them down quickly or they disappear as fast as they arrive.
And did you know that some of the clearest guidance often comes when we’re doing simple things with our bodies — showering, washing dishes, walking outside? Those everyday moments are often when the spiritual realm feels closest.
A Simple Example of Asking and Receiving
One day, I was out walking and trying to remember the names of two professionals I had worked with more than twenty years earlier. I simply asked for help:
“Please tell me the name of that psychologist.”
Then I kept walking.
Within minutes, both first and last names dropped into my head. I smiled, laughed, and felt grateful — not because it was dramatic, but because it was such a simple reminder that guidance is always available when I ask.
This is one way I know we are never alone, and how I know we are supported, guided, and connected in ways that don’t depend on belief systems. These experiences — small, ordinary, unmistakable — are what turn belief into knowing.
Where I’m Heading Next
My next blog will explore the Four Clairs in more detail, and how you can begin to notice which ones might be your natural strengths. For now, I simply wanted to begin here — with solitude, silence, and the everyday ways Spirit finds us when we make space to listen.
