Stormy lays, stretching and licking her paws. She is my muse, as is my dog Stella. Both stay close to offer their example of being instead of doing. This ties in with something I read this morning about the practice of stillness.
We are such a busy society, going to and from every point of interest that we don’t always know how to slow down and relax. We fidget and shift in our seats. We clear our throats and sigh. We glance up and down and around to find what we think is missing. We urge others with our underdeveloped telepathic abilities to inspire us, so we don’t have to stay where we’re at without any effort on our part.
Maybe where we’re at is where we need to be, at least, for this moment until another moment arrives. Like when I sit at my desk and find space between my movements. That space is rich with calm and serene breath, a delectable and nourishing experience I need. I am not always able to sit in that sweet moment, but with each attempt the possibility of doing so increases.
Stillness is a combined effort of my entire body, an all encompassing experience of release. I’ve sat still before, and though my outside looked settled and undisturbed there was a hurricane of grand proportions raging inside.
Stillness now is organ-deep, a quiet that permeates my every cell. This kind of stillness takes time and practice. There is not a definite alteration of self from the get go either. At first, I doubt that anything is changing. I doubt that I should keep practicing at all.
But I keep practicing.
I keep practicing because I’ve met people who embody this stillness and quiet in their person. A light shines forth. A light that invites me to settle and be, to know all things are as they are, and that there is little that I need to do. I find strength and courage in my stillness. I let my suffering over my attachments go. I find possibility to do and say things in ways that I couldn’t before.
There are so many ways to find stillness if I’m willing to search for it, seek it out, and stay with it. What’s your experience?
Weathered Well 