Lifeletter #164: Daring to Be Still

Sometimes go outside and sit
In the evening at sunset,
When there’s a slight breeze that touches your body,
And makes the leaves and trees move gently.

As the days get longer in the northern hemisphere, and we slowly emerge from the darkness into the light, I’ve been spending time letting myself dive down, to see if I can stay in touch with a place of stillness and rest, through all of the activity that is emerging with the new year, inside me and all around me.

It takes courage and clarity to be still. So much of our activity comes from anxiety, from emptiness, from loneliness. We leap into movement without noticing what is actually moving us. When we allow ourselves to stop and rest, right in the middle of the movement, our whole relationship with the world begins to change. We connect with an organic rhythm, an energy that doesn’t get frozen in stillness; and that doesn’t keep pushing us, mercilessly, into doing more and more.

You’re not trying to do anything really.
You’re simply allowing yourself to be,
Very open from deep within,
Without holding onto anything whatsoever.
Don’t bring something back from the past, from a memory.
Don’t plan that something should happen.

I had an experience recently, in which I realized how afraid I have been all my life of getting stuck, and how that fear has prevented me from letting go and resting when I really need it. It helped me to feel that transforming our relationship with stillness and movement touches every aspect of our lives.

Rest is an essential part of life. Deep rest is not a luxury-we need to sink down into the stillness, and allow it to hold us. Resting in this stillness is the source of our healing, of insight, of new vitality and resilience. There is so much pleasure in true rest. It’s a natural pleasure, the pleasure of health, of innocence, of sanity, of peace.

It’s extraordinary how much more intimate we can be with each other, when we make space for some of this silence, this slowing down. It takes courage to allow this, to open to the vulnerability that comes along with this depth of connection. A great deal of the time we avoid it; we move away from it into some kind of activity or conversation. I know how many people long for this openness, this rest, this connection with the source of vitality and nourishment. I know this because I’ve been listening to people speak to me about this for years. A woman I spoke with today described it as ‘reconnecting with our umbilicus,’ the invisible cord through which we are sustained by life itself.

I can feel the first signs of a new culture emerging, in which we actually support each other in slowing down, feeling more and more, grounding, connecting, softening, listening. This emerging way of being includes a radically new way of having conversations, in which silence is welcomed, instead of being shunned and excluded. When was the last time you sat in silence with someone other than your family, and truly enjoyed the space between you?

Don’t hold onto anything in the present.
Nothing you perceive needs to be nailed down.
Simply let your experience take place, very freely,
So that your empty, open heart
Is suffused with the tenderness of true compassion.

This 3 verse poem is from Carefree Dignity by Tsoknyi Rinpoche

with love,

Shayla

 

I offer deep gratitude to Jenie Taylor, and what I learned about rest in the beautiful potency of her process workshop.