Snuggled on my couch under the weighted blanket.
All the lights have turned off.
Peering out the window, watching the slow movement of the moon working its way across the blue-black sky. A few stars shimmering, asking to be seen.
I glance at the clock. 2am.
“I should go to bed.” There’s that “should” that likes to show up.
The fact is… I don’t really want to.
Finally, there is a sense of quiet. Of the slowing of the world around me.
Things are at rest. Noise is limited.
stillness… .. …
Standing in the shower.
The warmth of the pulsing water hitting my body.
I close my eyes and I can feel individual drops.
Landing.
Grasping for just a moment.
Then rolling down toward my feet.
I feel the movement. They cling to stay in their spot and then surrender and venture off to explore the textures and curves of my skin.
I could stay here all day. A sense of quiet in my mind.
Of peace. Of being. Of surrender to the moment.
stillness… .. …
I’m sitting on my oversized chair.
Red chenille.
Crying.
There is no rest or recharge between having a newborn, doing massage, running a home, running a business — everyone’s needs came before mine.
I’m utterly exhausted.
The phone rings.
It’s my sister.
I’d left her a message earlier. We don’t talk often. Yet, her call isn’t a surprise.
Wiping my tears and steadying my voice.
“Hi, Kira. How are you?”
“Lori. Dad’s dead.”
Shocking. Painful. Hollow. Confusing. Disbelief.
Like when a car comes to a quick stop and your body keeps going. Thank god for seatbelts.
Those next few seconds as her words set in
are an eternity of
stillness… .. …
Standing.
Face to face.
Arms wrapped around each other.
Nestled in for the perfect fit.
Embraced in a hug.
Breathing in sync.
Heart to heart.
The mind is as clear and blank as
freshly wiped glass.
No thoughts to distract.
Fully present in the moment.
Together
in
stillness… .. …
Driving into the middle of
nowhere, hiking up a hill.
A hole in the earth welcomes us.
Sometimes the hole was gaping.
Sometimes it wasn’t much larger than us.
Sometimes it was easy to find.
Sometimes it hid amongst the grasses or brush.How many people have walked by this having no idea what’s possible when they stop and explore?
Helmets on. Lighting the little flame on the carbide lamp to reflect light.
Down into the hole.
Walking, crawling, and wiggling our way through passages.
Deeper and deeper into the earth.
Farther and farther from the noise of the everyday world.
The temperature of the air is always the same.
Outside could be rain, snow, sweltering heat. In the cave, it’s a cool, predictable mid-50s.
An element of knowing exactly what to expect in this world removed from the ever changing.
Bats hang from the ceiling. Sleeping. Peaceful. Taking refuge to recharge before next flight.
Deep inside the cave we stop, cut off the fuel to our lamps, and sit without words.
Pure darkness.
My hand remains invisible mere inches in front of my face.
Yet, I can sense it.
Heightened awareness
in the
stillness… .. …
Perched on my loveseat.
Six stories up.
Legs stretched out and resting on the railing.
The hum of the world surrounds me.
Cars whirring by. The bus announcing its stop.
Horns, sirens, a plane overhead.
Kids chattering on their family walk.
A whiff of cigarette from a neighbor.
The lingering telltale skunky smell of a different smoke from another. Exhaust from a truck passing by.
Surrounded by the sounds and smells of an urban world.
Close my eyes. Focus more deeply. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.
Insects chirp. Or are they frogs? I can’t always tell them apart.
Four different birds sharing their dreams with each other.
Each with its own voice.
The screech of a fox.
Fresh cut grass. Mulch.
Honeysuckle. Pollen. Roses.
I can smell them together and each alone.
The rustle of tall grass and trees in the wind.
The flap of wings from travelers.
I open my eyes.
Looking up, I see the bright blue sky.
“Utah Blue,” like the name of the paint I once used on my walls.
That name didn’t lie. It’s exactly the color of the sky in the Utah mountains.
Clouds of all kinds.
Layered and living in harmony.
Wispy and drawn out.
Big, fluffy cotton balls.
Scattered about.
I didn’t know white comes in so many colors.
I look down.
Straight across from my balcony is a rare open area.
And there on the other side of the fence
I see my friends.
They look up,
Silently watching me,
Still eating the overgrowth.
“Hello. So happy to see you!” I call.
They reply with a pause
and glance at me with curiosity.
These deer that visit
Act as a powerful reminder
That as the world rushes by
I can stay present
and grounded.
I can fully embrace
and embody.
The sensual power.
The heightened awareness
of
stillness… .. …
Stepping into the pod,
Warmth swirls around my feet,
Working its way between each toe.
I have choices.
Music or silence.
Darkness or softly glowing lights.
Lying down on my back
The muffled sound of water trying
to creep through the ear plugs.
Tiny waves rock me as I effortlessly float.
The lid lowers
Releasing any need to move
Releasing any need for control
Releasing any need to do
I simply feel,
Cradled
in
stillness… .. …
Respite from the daily sensory onslaught.
Room to breathe.
A place of physical
and mental
pause and recharge.
Heightened awareness
Balance
Escape
Energetic hygiene
Why would I want or need to navigate that?
Can’t I just exist there?
Finally,
I can stop.
I can simply BE.
My world is self-guided
When I choose
stillness… .. …
Stillness comes in all fashions, as these snapshots above aim to capture.
Sometimes it’s a chosen respite from the world, and sometimes it shows up as an unwelcome, breath-gasping surprise.
Sometimes stillness is loud, boisterous, and full of movement. Other times, it sneaks up on me, like a ninja ready to pounce. It can even be a combination of both.
It can feel eye-opening, enlightening, and scary as hell. Often all at once, as it invites thoughts, feelings, and realizations I’m not aware of or perhaps have done my best to tuck in the back of some drawer in my mind to explore “later.” In stillness, later can quickly become now, and I am face to face with the discomfort of my own existence and confusion in navigating a world that I often feel I don’t fit into at all.
What beauty do you notice in stillness? How does it feel in your body when you allow yourself
to stop and simply “be” in the moment?
For me, the beauty of navigating stillness lies in the pause and possibility. It lies in the snapshots in time that remind me of all I’ve been through and all I have to offer. The depth of my ability to be present in each moment, whether painful or delightful, and to breathe.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Repeat.
Honoring stillness in each moment keeps me moving forward. And forward is the direction I choose.
cradled in stillness…
