In Praise of Stillness
It’s dark during my meditation in December. The sun hasn’t crept over the horizon when I sit by the big pecan tree in my backyard. It’s quiet too. The insects don’t chirp when the temperature is low. And the birds don’t start up until dawn has almost broken.
On a cloud covered morning this week I sat in the quiet dark… listening. Traffic on the road. And. Something else, the soft rustle-rustle of leaves nearby. Rustle-Rustle and a small form, moving through darkness. I could barely see the flash of white which could only be a tail. Rabbit. Out for an early-morning hop.
It caught my eye because it was the only creature moving or making a sound. It caught my eye because I could only just barely see it in the darkness - and only because it moved.
Rabbit hopped within feet of me. Rustle-Rustle went the leaves. Flash-flash went the tail. And then. Alas! I moved my hands just slightly. Rabbit startled, twitched briefly then darted left - disappearing once again into the underbrush. Leaving me to the dark and the silence once again.
Nature writer Tom Brown says there are creatures who come close because of how still you are and others who come because of how long you’ve been still.
The key being the stillness. In our ever-moving world, stillness is being forgotten. As we crave the next milestone, or grasp for the next accomplishment we rarely remember to pause and receive whatever we’ve worked so hard for. Stillness is a lost art - and with it, the subtlety of deep listening, and attuning oneself to inner guidance. With it is lost the ability to let go into the ocean of Consciousness. If we cannot become still inside, how will we hear the still small voice that speaks into the quiet?
Inner work begins with big moves. Establishing habits of support like meditation, journalling, and physical practice. It starts out having big rewards too. Life starts to become somewhat more understandable or at least our ability to move with it expands.
But there comes a time in one’s journey when the big moves aren’t as necessary. What’s needed now is a time of sinking in. Not the way a ship sinks below the sea, but the way one sinks into a nourishing bath. Settling, sinking, softening and becoming still. These are the ways that one slowly moves more into relationship with the Consciousness we all share.
Sometimes, I think of inner guidance as being like a small animal. Like Rabbit, it will come close. And like, Rabbit it is sometimes scared off by big or sudden moves. What will coax it closer is a listening Heart and interior stillness.
It’s not easy. It may not even be possible to truly be still. And this stillness I describe is not without life, not inert. It’s Shakti-filled, pure potential, alive and pulsing in every moment, the way my heart was pounding as I watched Rabbit hop within 2 feet of my knee. Do not mistake this for something that asks you to kill or deny the life-force inside.
Only, this is the invitation in these darkest days of the year to draw towards your quiet space. To move into your darkness. To become still there. To invite something to arise within you. And then, instead of forcing something to happen - to listen, and see what comes close.
Perhaps your inner wisdom will draw near and offer you a way Home.