Turn off whatever music system you have going--Pandora, iTunes, Spotify, or a plain old CD player--and listen.
Listen to the silence.
Notice the new sounds around you, no longer covered by the music. The wind faintly rushing by outside, barely heard through the window. The clock ticking behind you that you only just notice now. The motorcycle revving up on a distant highway.
And the new visuals. The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, leaving shadowy evidence of the bush right outside. The computer screen in front of you that suddenly has a lot of dust on it. The green grass just poking up from its brown ancestors outside the window.
Smells. Musty old room. A slight freshness from outside.
Feelings. The ache in your back from sitting in such an uncomfortable position. Your muscles that are restless from not getting exercise today. That weird lump in your throat that seems to signal that you're about to cry, but you don't.
And I'll leave tastes to you.
In the silence, life is more real than the screen in front of you.
That is why silence is hard. And that is also why silence is necessary.