When was the last time you had a moment of silence? If you live in the modern world, the likelihood of silence is close to zero. What about stillness? That moment when demands, noise, intrusive thoughts, and to-dos abate. Did you notice it? Or did it suddenly crowd in with demands, noise, intrusive thoughts, and to-dos?
Something I appreciate about my croning journey is the gift I’m giving myself to see, feel, and listen to stillness. It’s delicious. All through adulting, I was too busy doing; very little time was spent being. Even if I prided myself on my quality of wonderment, I was constantly stressed out with a cacophony of shoulda-woulda-coulda’s. No wonder my mental health always hung on a knife’s edge.
Everything depended on how I showed up and landed according to everyone and everything else. The constant calibration against what others expected and required filled my days and mind. My heart rarely came into the equation. When it did, it was often a reactionary impulse rather than anything grand or honest. Depressive episodes came in broad waves, sometimes years apart, sometimes crashing one after another as on a beach after a storm.
Slowly, imperceptibly, I came to a decision. More importantly, I began a practice of stillness. Believe me! This isn’t as Zen as it sounds. There are some days still when my interior monologue sounds like a catfight between those shoulda-woulda-couldas and my higher self. Sometimes stillness has to get scrappy.
She’s elusive, that stillness. She’s like a forest sprite that you can only see in glimpses from a sideways glance. If you try to look directly at her, she flits away, leaving you questioning if you ever really had her in your presence or not. To share space with stillness requires a steady, rhythmic breath, an open heart, and a quiet mind. That last one is my greatest challenge—goof! Oh, and this is all done not in a struggling, striving way, but in a receptive, passive frame.
So, what’s the payoff? If stillness is so darn difficult, why not just ride the waves of cacophony and noise like some kind of input adrenalin junkie? I mean, it IS kind of thrilling. The knowing, the up-to-date-ness, the exhilaration of life on the knife’s edge. Yeah, all overrated.
Stillness offers me space to meet myself for the first time since childhood. I’m often surprised when stillness comes and wraps me up like a cocoon and offers me a loving space of safety and unconditional acceptance. From this place of love and safety, I re-enter the quotidian world with greater grace. I’m able to even bring some wisps of stillness with me, offering these to those I connect with during my day.
This is one reason that WonderCrone exists. It’s to support women nearing or in their third chapter to invite stillness and listen to her wisdom – your wisdom. Come join me at WonderCrone.com
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