The absence of silence breeds the absence of thought I’m sitting in a meditation class at a yoga studio in Chicago, neon lights pulsing pink and purple while the instructor talks over a movie soundtrack. I almost can’t believe I’ve paid $30 to be here. It’s Philip Glass’s Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters, by the way – the score to the 1985 film; it’s become the go-to soundtrack for big feelings and personal epiphanies. The instructor hasn’t stopped talking since we sat down. When she runs out