Stillness

In contemporary times, the pace of daily life is frenetic, magnified by constant 'doing' and never-ending influx of noise from cars, televisions, radios, iPods, cell phones, and the various other machines that are part of our lives. This 'noise' doesn't just make its way into our hearing, but also our sensing and feeling -- 'noise' is vibration.

As bodies and souls show the increasing fatigue of perpetual motion, noise, and agitation -- with increased rates of illness, depression, fatigue, and so on -- many people feel a deep, unheard and unanswered yearning for quiet, ease, grace, and joy; they feel a deep need to slow down and soothe battered nervous systems.

Stillness is the only pathway to what we seek, both in terms of what our bodies, minds and souls crave, and also the creative perceptions and approaches needed to resolve modern-day problems that threaten to overwhelm us. Stillness is the doorway.

Yet for many, the ability to settle into stillness seems impossible, so acclimated are they to constant sensory stimulation and mental chatter, and so out-of-touch with the age-old Wisdom and practice of how to find the harmony and restful oasis that is always at our center. To restore our familiarity with the pathway to stillness becomes a discipline requiring daily practice, and though one can feel the benefit almost instantly, it is not a case of instant gratification or 'quick pill' to stillness.

For the first time in many years, I find myself in New York at the Winter Solstice, and for the first snows of the season. In San Francisco, where I've lived for many years, the incoming familiarity of thick fog brings with it a quietness and a sense of stillness.

Here in New York, the snow brings a similar and even deeper stillness. Watching it fall gently and almost silently -- it does make sound for those who listen carefully -- becomes a meditation in and of itself, quieting and slowing and soothing the system, and clearing the way for connection with Higher Guidance and the soul's voice.

When the snow falls heavily, even those who most resist slowing down must bow to Nature or pay more immediate consequences. The roads become slick, and drivers must become more mindful and cautious; visibility decreases, so one's field of vision becomes by necessity shortened. Upon arriving to one's destination, one is more grateful for having arrived safely.

And in the New York Winter, one's body acclimates more readily to circadian rhythms, our bodies and minds moving with the arriving or receding light into wakefulness or a drawing inward. We want to slow down; we want to go inward, though this inclination often collides with and deeply challenges our programmed addiction to stimulation.

A spiritual mentor and wise woman I interviewed for a Feminine Wisdom project I'm researching said to me, "I've learned that if I don't make room for stillness, it will come looking for me."

Many of us have experienced this: We ignore the voice of our soul calling us inward, inviting us to slow down and get still and listen, and we find ourselves ill, or clumsily injuring ourselves, and stillness finds us.

Of course, many of us protest, citing the necessity of our very busy, frenzied lives. Yet even in the speaking of it, we know it's not true. We know that it's our 'busyddiction' talking, and what's really showing itself is a lack of discernment, of mindfulness, and of real freedom from the voices of culture. We could clear the clutter, prune the to-do's, slow down and get more still. But we have to break our addictions to speed, stuff, stimulation, and gadgets, and own up to our responsibility for our wellness and the quality of our lives first.

Ultimately, as has been the case for millennia, it is in and through stillness that we find Wisdom and a calm center from which to more mindfully, joyfully, and skillfully move along with the comings and goings, doings and beings of our lives. In stillness, a new wealth and richness becomes apparent in our lives. We hear our own song, and sense the songs of others, attuning to One great song.

In Joy,
Jamie

* For additional musings on Stillness, read my blog entry and review of Into Great Silence, the wonderful documentary.