Buddha has given it a name. He calls it tathata, suchness. He says that whatsoever is, is. Whatsoever is, is. Accept it, and then you are silent. Say no, deny, reject, try to change, you have created disturbance. This silence is prayer. And this silence you cannot create, you cannot force.
In life, all that is valuable, all that is of any value at all, is always a consequence of many, many things. You cannot approach it directly. For example, happiness: you cannot approach it directly. And those who try to achieve happiness directly will become most unhappy, and only because of their effort. Whenever you are doing something, totally absorbed in it, happiness happens.
A painter painting: he has forgotten himself completely in the act. He is totally there. He is no more, really. Really, a great painter never paints. Painting happens like we say it rains – it paints!
Van Gogh was asked once, “Which of your paintings is the best?” And van Gogh said, “But I have never painted anything. I cannot say. And if you insist, then I can say only this one which is being painted just now. But I am not the painter – the painting is happening. The painter is not there. The mind has stopped.”
Then Van Gogh can have a happiness not of this world. A singer, a dancer, can have a happiness which doesn’t belong to this world. But that is really a consequence of something else.
Silence is also a consequence of many things: of right living, of right action, of right acceptance, of being a right host. Then suddenly, silence happens. It is there – it has been always there.