When Life Calls For Stillness
“Do you have the patience to wait
Till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
Till the right action arises by itself?”
Lao Tzu
Getting real with people means deciding moment by moment to show up with honesty, authenticity, and sometimes vulnerability. This is what I aim to bring to the pages of this publication. It is with that intention that I have to be honest. Lately, I have been struggling with a series of challenges that have taken a toll on me physically, mentally, and spiritually. Battling a lingering cold for over two weeks has drained both my energy and motivation, leaving me feeling depleted. But beyond the physical realm, the last month has stirred up a lot of shadows and emotions for me, creating an inner conflict where my mind and spirit diverged. These shadows remind me of the murky sludge settled at the bottom of a lake. Left unattended, this sludge can cause issues, clouding the clarity of both mind and spirit. It’s as if the depths of my being have been stirred, leaving me feeling unsettled and in need of rest.
But I don’t tell this story for sympathy. I tell it because I am aware that in the online world of articles and social media it’s inviting to make it seem like everything is fine and well all of the time. We know it’s not. We know that not only do we have our own struggles, but that those around us struggle, too. Luckily, in these times I have both personal and professional resources that remind me that nothing needs to be done or actioned. I can’t speed up my physical healing. I can’t reasonable process all that has been stirred. All I can do is accept it, welcome it, and fall into stillness until the moment passes. As Lao Tzu asks above, “Do you have the patience to wait ‘till your mud settles and the water is clear?” For some, stillness is the hardest action to take, yet more often than not it’s the most effective.
Welcoming Whatever Comes
It feels like we’re often expected (or expecting) to be happy and motivated all of the time. When in reality, life is constant with its ups and downs. Moment to moment we are faced with new experiences, or as Rumi calls them below, a new “guest.” What comes is most often not in our control, but how we respond to it is. Do we get angry and defensive? Do we withdraw and hide away? Or do we face it and say “thank you for coming,” understanding that all moments are additional pieces of information that we can use to make our selves better. I share with you now a poem from Rumi called “The Guest House”:
“This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.”
By Jalaluddin Rumi (from Rumi: Selected Poems), translated by Coleman Barks
Falling Into Stillness
Stillness has never come naturally to me. Especially stillness of the mind. I have always been one to be lost in my thoughts - scanning, observing, analyzing, preparing. This has served me well in some realms, while in others it has caused me great suffering. It’s for this reason that over the past six months I have been working both independently and with different practitioners to bring more balance to my body, mind, and spirit. Stillness is essential for balance. Stillness is where the body rests, the mind becomes empty, and where the spirit can start to speak. And so I have started prioritizing stillness in my life. Each day I sit for 10 to 40 minutes and meditate in silence. Unmoving, unlearning, undoing. In times of struggle I am slowly learning that the best thing to do is nothing. To fall into stillness is what is required. Only then can the mind-body-spirit align. Only then can the mud settle. Only then will the next clear action appear. Only then can we recharge and be reborn.
I leave you with a reflection from the book Embers by Richard Wagamese, an Ojibwe Canadian author:
I AM NOT created or re-created by the noise and clatter of my life, by the rush and scurry, the relentless chase or the presumption that more gets more. No, I am created and re-created by moments of stillness and quiet. I am struck richer by a pure solitude that allows me to feel the world around me and lean into my place in it. I am not the rush of words in my life’s narrative. I am its punctuation. Its pauses and stops. I am my ongoing recharge; in this silence I am reborn.
Feature Photo by Harli Marten on Unsplash
