The Stillness Hour



I was given the gift of stillness last weekend. I was in the Midlands, at a food festival, and came across a display of brochures and small posters with words like “stillness” and “silence” and other profound thoughts that appealed to me. I stopped, asked some questions, and was invited to the Quaker service for the following morning to share an hour of stillness.

When I arrived, I was met by someone who quietly showed me where to put my umbrella and hang my jacket. Then, he took me into a room where about 20 people were sitting in silence. I took my seat, returned some smiles, closed my eyes and . . .

Breathed? . . . . . Sat? . . . . . I think the words ‘I was Present’ come closest. How do I describe something with words when words themselves are the opposite of what I am describing? The sun was pouring in from the tall windows. It had warmed my face, and I was aware of the glorious abundance of life.

It could have been different. I’ve been in similar situations, where I had just met a group of people, and have always felt compelled to explain myself – who I am, where I’m from, what I do, why I’m there.

But not that Sunday morning; which was good.

It seems that the more I settle into a spiritual practice of stillness, the more reluctant I am to define myself. It seems that anything more than, ‘I am me’ would be less that sincere. I really don’t want to be different or better than -- and labels only separate me from others. We all exist from the same consciousness. We are all children of the same universe. In stillness, the absence of ego is replaced by humble compassion. I have become comfortable with that. Although I still sometimes feel I need to justify my existence (I'm working on that) I don't always give in to the compulsion. And that feels so much better.

So, as a spiritual practice, I think Quakers have the right idea. Simple stillness as a form of worship has no imposed fences and requires no signposts. There is no one to tell you how to think, how to behave, or what to believe in. It was simply the sharing of stillness, a practice that, when in the presence of others, gives access to a universal consciousness that is the essence of who we truly are.

2 comments:

L'Adelaide said...

hello there! I happened here from Beyond the Fields We Know....I wondered what you might be up to. Did you know in Zen, a retreat is in total silence? Days of silence excepting when the teacher teaches? I thought that sounds magnificent but am yet to attend one. It is a bit out of my Tibetan Buddhist comfort zone although it's complex simplicity appeals, does it not?

So hello to you! I hope all is as well as can be expected. Drop by sometime, ok? ;)

Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing - I am going home to practise stillness.
Jane