The fertile soil of stillness
Your truest dreams, your clearest insight, and the slow burn of your inner fire are all to be found in the refuge of stillness.
My longest-standing practice is daily stillness.
It continues to be a mainstay because of its power to nourish me on so many levels, full stop. I began meditation in my mid-twenties when I would ceremoniously sit on a cushion and burn incense while I watched my mind wander and feel my legs fall asleep. Thankfully, I had to let go of those perfectionistic ideas about spiritual practice when Clara was a baby, and my practice was simply to breathe and stay present while she nursed.
Honestly, I’m glad my rigid ideas about meditation and stillness were disrupted and challenged pretty early in my life. The realities of mothering and endless moves opened me to three fundamental truths about stillness:
The time we spend with ourselves in stillness should fundamentally feel good. I no longer sit in positions that hurt my body. When my practice feels stale, I do something different. My practices have run the gamut from sitting in nature to yoga nidra to chanting. The point is, I enjoy it. I savor the process, the time with myself, and the way the practice extends itself into my day. It’s delicious and that is just the way it should be because sometimes what comes up and needs to be seen and felt is decidedly tender. However, the overall comfort and nourishment of my practice makes it easier to welcome the full catastrophe of life into my practice.
Meditation is not just one thing. I alluded to this above, but it benefits from being repeated. Anything done with attention and consistency becomes a spiritual practice. Whether it’s breathing, coloring mandalas, sitting in silence, walking in nature, or guided meditation, there are infinite pathways to the stillness that allows you to hear the wisdom of your own heart. The trick is to claim your practice as your practice and stop browbeating yourself about sitting in silence as the only valid way to meditate.
There is no time threshold that validates your practice. I hear too often that people don’t feel they have time. I feel that. However, what I’ve discovered in the more time-pressed seasons of my life is that time stretches open and welcomes us into the stillness when we seek to find that depth of soul nourishment. Five minutes or fifty, it’s the intention, the quality of attention, and the ease found that matters most. Honestly, in this season of my life, I have a luxurious hour-long morning practice of stillness (I’ll be sharing the particulars in the new year), but that has not been true at any other time in my life.
Stillness gives me the gift of soul nourishment.
I notice more peace in my days and less reaction with those I love. I more easily see what is good in my world, which helps me to squarely face the challenges with a well-spring of strength. It is the practice of stillness where I am gifted the guidance, the discernment, and the inner fire of wholeness that help me say yes to my dreams and to define my choices in the day-to-day.
Honestly, I often get ahead of myself.
Maybe you do, too. I want to move fast and be efficient. I want to get as much done as possible. I want what I want right now. Sometimes I’m convinced I’m too busy, too mentally active, or too antsy to possibly find the opening, the opportunity for a moment of stillness. But actually, I’ve learned those moments are the ones I should double down and find even more time for silence, for stillness, for soul nourishment.
So, if in this season you are too busy.
If you feel rushed or overwhelmed by the flutter of anxiety beating its wings in your belly. If you feel pressured to make a 10-point list of your goals for the new year, not to mention update your calendar with year-end obligations, I invite you to put stillness at the top of your list. Just a pause, taken at the opportune moment.
Soften your jaw and your shoulders.
Gaze at something beautiful or gently close your eyes.
Feel the way that your feet are connected to the earth and breathe. Perhaps place a hand over your heart gently, now.
Notice what is alive in your body - welcome it all.
Give yourself permission to have the practice of stillness that deeply nourishes you, sister. But, liberally sprinkle moments of stillness and attention throughout your days, especially when you are very busy.
Tell me everything: what is your ideal practice of stillness, and do you make time for that regularly? Let’s discuss.
This is so beautiful, and clear, and just what I needed to read today. I especially appreciated the reminder - there is no magically perfect way to do stillness.
I've been sitting, eyes closed with hand on heart, for three breaths before pulling my tarot and oracle cards each morning. Maybe I can lengthen that to five breaths this week.
Another practice that's stillness-adjacent for me is commuting in silence - no music or podcasts or recorded books. But I can easily believe to the voices of FOMO in my head and forget how nourishing that silence is. I will start again today.
"Honestly, I often get ahead of myself." Yes, this! Thanks for the validation and reminders of what you wrote here. Currently, I am practicing a daily guided meditation to help me focus because of my increased anxiety. My anxiety tells me that I don't have enough time, when I know that it is even more important, but harder, when I'm anxious. Going for walks in nature on most days really helps!