I had such plans for this month. I was going to get back to writing - and more of it! I was going to start publishing here weekly! I was going to do some long overdue overhauls of my business writing and finally publish a website! I was going to have things I could look at and say “I produced that! What a month of doing!”.
Dear reader, it has not been that month.
Instead, I have been reminded, again, of the importance - and potency - of stillness. At first, this showed up as “no” in my system. Like a toddler might, I simply looked at my computer and said “no” as many moments as I could. I thought about my list of to-dos for my business and said “no” as many times I could while still showing up as a good coach for my clients. I looked at the pile of non-fiction books I wanted to start or finish and simply said “no” to many of them. I looked at my pile of art supplies and said “no” by closing the door on the cabinet that houses them.
And then, stillness showed up as snow - a lot of it (at least for Memphis). As usual, this largely meant the city completely shut down, it was full of “will we, won’t we have [power / water / both]” back and forths, and it meant retreat. The energy of spring that I might personally be moving into for this chapter of my life met the reality of winter outside.
I could have resisted this. In another life, I would have. I would have listened to my inner critic who was active in her telling me that I needed more discipline, I should just sit down and write, I should just plod on and get through it because I had goals that needed meeting, damnit! But I am not living that life any longer, and I have resources and practices that support me to live differently now.
Instead, I returned to my stillness practices and I worked to change my relationship with the lack of “doing anything”. Instead of saying no and then feeling badly about saying no, I said no and let it be that. It’s important to me here to say: the work to do that isn’t as simple as that sentence makes it out to be. It was hard! I was confused! I was full of doubt that I was following the right path and not simply allowing my brain to make elegant excuses for slovenly behavior! It was a fight within me to lean into trusting the universe / god / life / me and away from doubting the universe / god / life / me. It’s just that after years of practicing this, I knew how to take care of myself in the midst of it.
That’s what felt different, not the challenge being different or absent from my life.
I imagine a version of the trust - doubt polarity will continue to arise in my life, and occasionally it might even show up and I’ll get stuck on one side of these creating a polarization that feels too far gone to unfreeze. But, just like the snow has now melted with warmer weather and rain, so, too, will the energy of “being stuck” melt in the right conditions.
I didn’t get stuck this time. I worked the practices that work for me. I engaged with others to help me talk through what I was experiencing and helped me see the particulars I wasn’t able to (like, for example, that I had actually been doing quite a lot - I had outlines of future essays, I was gaining more clarity in my coaching offerings and point of view for writing here, I was painting). And I simply allowed.
One morning, I laughed at the end of my meditation practice when I opened my eyes and really looked at what was in front of me: a card saying “In stillness I receive” that I chose to display weeks ago on my coffee table.
This might not be the essay I thought I was going to write to kick-off 2024 here, but it is the essay that feels ready to share, and that’s enough; that’s more than enough. I know that, because after weeks of trying to force something out that simply wouldn’t come or wasn’t ready yet, I stopped efforting. I allowed. From there, this is what came to share. I trust it will matter.
What is a stillness practice?
I’m sure there’s a very lovely definition out there from folks far more practiced than me. What I’ve discovered for myself is that there are a handful of practices that, when they are present in my life, I can cultivate stillness - in the moment, yes, but more so I mean they increase my capacity to take a pause, big or small, when life offers me a challenge. In that pause, I can discover how I want to consciously respond instead of simply unconsciously reacting to everything around me.
They slow me down and remind me that life is meant to be lived at what I once heard described as an earth-based pace.
When I’m reacting, it is fast. It feels urgent. The energy in my body is so intense as to actually move me forward - sometimes that means I’m simply sitting in a chair with my chest above my knees and not my hips; sometimes it means it propels me into actual forward movement in my full body and I start doing something without even really thinking about it. It feels from here that everything is my responsibility or problem to solve, and alone; often that can show up as a me vs. everybody kind of vibe. When I’m reacting, my breath gets shorter and stuck around my collarbones. I collapse around a few options (or only one) as possible and I am a binary thinker - it is either this or that.
When I’m responding, it is slow. Time feels infinite, even though it might not be. The energy of my body is gentle and open - it is one of receptivity. I feel grounded. I turn to others - in conversations, in writings and teachings, in meditation. My body has a fluidity to it - my shoulders drop from my ears, my pelvis can move freely, my breathing flows from my lower belly into my chest and through my throat. When I’m responding, I’m taking the time to listen - to others, to myself, to something much bigger than any one of us, and then I move forward on any one of many possibilities, acknowledging the unresolved contradictions that are all around us in these complex times. It feels more like the next right step and less like the only right step.
I’ve learned how to spot the difference between these two in my body and mind and also to recognize that the consequences of the former - even the short term good ones - don’t bring about the relationships or results I really want. I might get a temporary high of, say, publishing on a timeline that I completely made up for myself, but it isn’t likely to be something I feel great about later down the line. It will have been to simply quiet the inner critic who can often be like a dog with a bone and avoid the discomfort of learning to live more slowly in this fast world of ours.
An experiment for you to try on, with the intention of really just first getting to know the difference for yourself, and second to try on something new:
Take time (spoiler: this will really be a forever experiment, but at first you might say something like take a week or two) to get familiar with your forward and backward energies. I’d recommend something like reviewing your day at the end of each day or the start of the next one, while you’re doing something you already reliably do (like while you take a shower, brush your teeth, make your morning beverage). Simply take note of when can you remember feeling on the forward arrow? What happened (result of actions you took / didn’t, but also how did it feel in your body)? Similarly, what happened when you were on the backward arrow? What happened?
Which of these feels familiar to you? How might you experiment with what doesn’t feel familiar, even when it’s hard?
Try on a practice or two that might support you to come into stillness / the backward arrow for at least two weeks and see what you discover for yourself.
I have four practices in my life that support my capacity to cultivate and return to stillness. When I’m consistent with them, it is easier to respond; when I’m not, it is far easier for me to return to reacting. They are:
I meditate for at least half an hour 5-6 times a week.1
I go to sleep early and wake up early. I love to get lots of sleep, but I’ve noticed over time that the quantity of sleep matters less for me than this rule.
I move my body every day. Sometimes, this is just walking around on a call. Other times, it’s a strenuous HIIT class. Most of the time, it’s a walk outside and a pilates or yoga class.
I take the view, mentioned earlier, that time is infinite. I know it’s not. That’s not the point. If I show up as if it is, I include more - of myself, of others, of the complexity of the issue - and including more might be murky, difficult, messy, and slow, but it’s yet to let me down as an effective way to make good decisions.
These are mine. They might not be yours. The invitation is to find those that work for you. There’s no magic number, there’s no answer that will work for everyone. Go off and experiment! If you’re stuck, I’ve included some additional practices below you can peruse and try on if they call out to you.
In the meantime, go discover for yourself: what supports you to move at an earth-based pace? What does it feel like to cultivate stillness? What happens when you do? What’s hard about it? If you’re so inclined, share in the comments!
Xo -
A
Some other possible stillness practices (not exhaustive - what else works for you?):
Dancing to gentle music
Take 10 minutes every day to notice what’s around you (and say these things aloud to yourself, you’ll be surprised what a difference it makes! Thanks to Tim Davis for introducing this to me many years ago.)
Take a phone / social media detox of some length (I’m going to be trying out a no-phone-while-eating practice for the next two weeks!)
Contemplative Prayer
Qigong (there are great videos on YouTube and elsewhere)
Yoga (I would particularly recommend yin, nidra, or restorative yoga here, and not vinyasa, ashtanga, hatha, or hot, but you do you)
Walking in nature sans talking on your phone / listening to music or a podcast
You can also simply play with moving your body posture. Notice when you’re in a forward-arrow type posture (shoulders are hunched by your ears; your torso and/or head is in front of your hips and feet; there is usually a bracing of some kind happening somewhere) and move to a backward-arrow type posture (allow your shoulders to drop from your ears, align the “central channel” of your body - your spine is upright but not uptight, you can breathe easily and freely, your head is up and your chin is just slightly tucked so the crown of your head is “facing the heavens”, you might even rest your palms on your thighs if you’re sitting so they’re facing up (if standing, stand in mountain pose)). Just experiment with noticing what happens as you move back and forth between the two for a few rounds. Then, try taking your “backwards pose” for a few minutes each day.
For years, I tried to meditate with the various apps out there. It would stick for a few days or weeks, but invariably, I would leave it behind because I didn’t really get what I was supposed to be doing, why it mattered, or have someone to help me understand the common and expected difficulties. Today, I consider Sangha Live to be my “home” and it’s where I turn almost daily for dharma talks and guided meditation and it’s made a massive difference to my practice and my life.
This is so so good and so resonate with what I'm contemplating lately. Reacting/responding, fast/slow. Meditation as a daily practice has been life changing, morning pages come and go but I like it as a morning ritual. No screens/podcasts in the morning until I've meditated or written has been a useful boundry for myself too. Lots of what you've said - I just got a Sangha account! thanks!
Athena this is great and probably wasn’t intended as a personal attack ;) but I am here in the comments because I wonder if you’re willing to share the names of the sister bulldog puppies. If not I will continue to name them in my head, so no bad outcomes.