“Stillness can be an adventure,” says Pico Iyer, and so on my birthday I gave myself the gift of stillness.
I left my phone on airplane mode and turned off my email. No news, no social media.
I went for a longer-than-usual run.
I gave myself a mani-pedi.
I lit a candle, sipped a cup of tea, and prayed.
I listened to calming music.
I read and wrote, my job but reframed today as my work-at-home retreat.
I smelled the roses and lifted my face to the warming sun.
I took deep breaths.
Of late the world has been particularly noisy. Beyond the normal seasonal work-and-life stress, global conflict and racial strife explode from gun barrels; politicians and their supporters shout in lieu of dialogue; and under our own roof, the extra of one kid applying to college while another struggles for health… One can only take in so much.
The antidote: stillness. And gratitude.
No year in a life can be perfect, even perfectly easy. This year had its trials, but in so many ways, this has been a good year in my life.
I initiated the Create Challenge on my blog, a source of encouragement and inspiration that has also connected me with people in new ways.
I started running, so unlikely it still makes me laugh.
I didn’t quit, despite set-backs.
I took on new work challenges with confidence.
I preached a summer Sunday sermon.
I have made good progress on a personal creative project.
I have friends and family who love me and a job that fulfills me.
Life is good, and stillness helps me to hear its goodness above the clamor.
I jotted down this quote from Kate Atkinson’s book, A God in Ruins, because it spoke to my need for stillness: “The last thing she wanted was people looking for her. No, that wasn’t true—the last thing she wanted was people finding her.”
I want to be looked for—I want people to need me and enjoy my company. And I want to be found. Tomorrow. Tomorrow we can have a party, a loud celebration. For today, I trust that those who love me will appreciate my self-gift of self-care. Thank you for your patience with me as I extend patience to myself.
Stillness has been both solace and struggle (how to still the hum of shattered nerves?). It took time and effort to stay put, to keep at it, to avoid easy distractions. I carefully guarded my daylight hours and, in so doing, I completed a major project in record time while also receiving a different measure of quiet rest. Like any discipline, any adventure worth having, it wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. I might just do it again, sooner than later.