Tag: stillness

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Why we need to BE not DO

Frenetic energy. I hadn’t heard the term in quite some time, but it landed in the midst of a training I led this week. Defined, frenetic is an adjective describing an activity marked by fast and energetic, disordered, or anxiety-driven activity. The woman used the term to describe a person’s energy, and I’m not sure why’s it continues to poke around in my mind, perhaps because it struck a nerve. You see, I’m Lisa, and I struggle to be not do.

Overcoming the drive to “DO”

‘Whatcha doing?’ Rolls of our tongues before we even realize it. Habit. Because, well, everyone is doing something, right? It’s wired into us to do, constantly, what did you do this weekend? What are you doing on vacation? What are you doing at work today? We do constantly, and when the need to do goes into overdrive, the risk of becoming frenetic easily creeps into the picture.

Take a deep breath and think about your yesterday. What was it filled with? Mine? Up early, went for a walk with a friend, cleaned my house, did 4+ loads of laundry, picked up lunch, drove to a friend’s, came home, more laundry, cooked dinner and collapsed. How about you? Be honest. Was it filled with activity similar to mine or??? That’s the question. If I wasn’t frenetically consumed with a clean house and using my precious time off to check more tasks off a list instead of connection with others or more importantly, myself…what on earth would I…wait for it…do.

How else can we define our time?

My Brené Brown Wholehearted Living Guidepost this month is Letting go of anxiety as a lifestyle / Embrace calm and stillness. Honestly, I’ve seen this one on the horizon and wondered how I’d overcome the lifestyle carefully curated to do rather than be.

 Be. Let it be. What if you answered the query “what are you doing this weekend,” with “Letting it be?” I wonder the response you’d get, or I’d get. Perhaps like I was a three headed hippie? Frankly, the pace of society is frenetic and although we complain about it, we must find some comfort in it, because in this moment, with the country in stages of shutdown, we wistfully long to get out and do something. We may be feeling as though we’re wasting month after month, at home, socially distanced, not doing.

Except we are still doing. I continue to read of frenetic energy redirected to their homestead. Re-decorating projects, new landscaping, closets cleaned out, sourdough bread made…because, the horror if we actually rested as we shelter in place.

You might find yourself forced to be

Last November, surgery on my foot rendered me immobile, literally, for 6 weeks. Prior to the surgery, I believed I’d be able to go to work in a week. Staying at home seemed wasteful. So much to do. Imagine my surprise when, instead of bounding back to work, at the end of 6 weeks, I asked my doctor for another. Not quite ready to jump back into anything. After about 2 weeks, I felt stress slipping away. Stress I didn’t realize I was carrying. And once I released it, the last thing I wanted to do was jump back on that train. I coveted the calm, the stillness, arising from being confined to a comfy chair in yoga pants. I had zero desire to interrupt that. My body told me to let it be.

Yet slowly, or maybe not so slowly, I resumed my activity level. Bringing all the activities, the frenetic sense of it, into my life. But why??? Honestly. No one, and I mean, no one, puts that expectation on me, or on you, beside you – and me. We all do it we ease back into what we called our normal life. As though it’s a suit of armor we slip on and once equipped, we’re more comfortable.

Give it a try – Let it Be

Maybe that’s part of it. We don’t know how to let it be. Ok, that’s fair. But how are we going to learn besides practice? That’s why I meditate each morning. Why I park it in my chair and chill in the evenings. Why I’m going to close my computer in a hot second and relax with a friend. I’m not claiming to be role model for it, but baby steps.

What baby steps can you, will you, take this week to let it be. The song’s lyrics tell us Whisper words of wisdom, let it be. Because there is wisdom in those 7 words. Collectively, let’s take a breath and be. Release any frenetic energy, it does not serve you today. And when someone asks you what you did this weekend, you can tell them I let it be. Be brave friends. Lisa

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Looking for stillness within scarcity

Rarely do we see scarcity on the wide scale basis we are today. Beyond day to day niceties, eating out, shopping in a physical store, getting my nails done (that struggle is real), the sense of ‘lack’ is a shared reality.

We lack human interaction, spending time with friends or family, we lack connection…shared experiences. We lack physical touch from another human person. Social distancing put an end, at least for the moment, to human to human life. For our own, and others, safety, we stay at home. I live alone at the moment and other than talking to people at the grocery store or drive through at Starbucks from six feet away, I have no in person connection. But lack is not limited to me because I’m single. It’s pervasive. Across socio-economic boundaries, regions, personal circumstances. We’re spending abundant amounts of time alone, or with one or two other people.

Scarcity becoming stillness

When I was 35, I was newly divorced and living in a new city – alone. My children were with their father and I unexpectedly found myself grappling with an empty house. I can recall being profoundly miserable. Lonely. Sad. Unable to sit in that house alone and simply be. I created background noise 100% of the time. The television became my roommate. I didn’t know what to do with myself, how to be with myself. The lack I felt was guttural. Deep waves of melancholy would wash over me on any given day. Scarcity in terms of connection was palpable.

35 was a long time ago. I’ve lived half that much life since then and look back on the time as transformative. Because within the lack, within that space of darkness, I instead found stillness. I was forced to get to know myself. To become comfortable with me and learn more about my own thoughts and desires. It wasn’t the path I dreamed of as a little girl, but it was the path I was on. And I survived. I found different ways to have connection, mainly within the stillness of my mind. It was a time of discovery. Of letting go of what was and deciding who I wanted to be. Somewhere in the middle of the alone time, I got comfortable with me. With being alone and making friends with myself.

It’s something I’ve done cyclically since that time. Peeling off outer layers to see what’s underneath. What I wanted to shed, and what I wanted to explore.

Stillness leads to transformation

Periods of stillness provide space for transformation. I’m writing this on Easter and my mind goes to Jesus, in the tomb, and His transformation. The love and hope He promised to the world.  Our stillness can be our time of transformation. It’s our choice. Isolation doesn’t have to be lonely. While we lack connection with others, we can find inner clarity and connection. Use this time to examine our hearts and explore what brings us joy, what we’re grateful for, where we have love and hope. Those elements that cannot be taken from us. We can look within ourselves and ask if there’s an area that feels like a splinter. Festering, needing to be removed, leaving us relieved that it’s gone. Maybe you need to consider what you thought was essential but that you are finding stillness without and see the joy in that new space opened inside you.

Yes, we’re experiencing scarcity, but that mere fact can bring us joy and gratitude because we have room to breathe. Slowly, intentionally. Time to ponder, to consider, to dream. We’ve slowed down, not by choice, but here we are. What we choose to do with the abundance of time, yes, abundance, not lack, is personal. But it’s a choice we’re all making. Make a brave one. I’m on the journey with you.

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Slow the internal narrative

Conversations in my headIt’s a party! Seriously. Every day. In my head. The left, right, frontal, amygdala, all getting in the mix, spinning in so many different directions I get dizzy. I could label the voices, there are those that are what I suppose other people would be saying, a couple that swirl in ‘what if’ land, a few more that believe they’re in acting school – walking out a variety of conversations and situations at any given time… and then there are those that are quieter. The little girl inside me, the still, small voice of God. Those voices get drowned out most of the time by the others that are arm wrestling for front and center, but they’re there.

I began to hone in on the voices, the tornado of thoughts, a few years ago, realizing that all the noise (because that’s what it is, loud, obnoxious noise) is nothing more than that. It’s not actually what’s happening. It’s easy to convince yourself that the way you play things out in your mind will happen, but still, it’s not truth, not fact. Yet, the voices are so distracting. They can divert us from life right in front of us. In our minds, we can make situations so much worse.

When I started to become aware of the runaway train in my mind was around the same time I began learning about mindfulness. The practice of being present. Of eliminating the distractions so that I can be present with myself or with others in the moment. It made sense to me. But in practice, was not quite a simple as it presented itself to be.

For one, the voices in my mind still would not shut up. Determined to create more stillness, I turned to  meditation. Years ago, I would meditate daily, truly helpful I believe. But it fell away as my time became tighter. To quiet my mind, I tried a meditation app, one that had guided meditation. If someone else was talking, there was a much higher likelihood that my mind wouldn’t. By and large that worked, not entirely, but slowly it got better. I found that 15 minutes a day can be carved out and the stillness has a trickling effect throughout the day.

Another idea I was encouraged to try was eating without distraction. No book, no phone, no TV – even when I was alone. Ummm, seriously? When I was with another person, no problem. But alone? What would I do with my mind? That was the point. Nothing. Focus on the food, the texture, the flavor, the experience.  I started experimenting with it. I can not promise you I’m a poster child for it, but I’m working on it.

Mindfulness would have you stop multi-tasking, which is a sham anyways. You can’t effectively focus on two things at a time. You’ll end up half focusing, or less, on both. I find I have an advantage here because my mind has less capacity to multi-task than it used to. The desire is there, but less so because my brain straight up doesn’t want to work like that. So, one thing at a time.

Ok, so a few mindfulness tactics worked in, and they help. But the internal narrative is still there. The difference is I can see it happening. I began using a strategy last year of naming the voices. Is it the voice of fear, or perseverance, maybe joy? And I would ask myself, what is it trying to tell me? I also started asking the voices questions. What was the little girl in me trying to tell me, to remind me of? Truly listen to what I was hearing.

If we’re honest, most of us have the voices. The question is how can you be the one calling the shots instead of them? What mindful practices can you put in place to quiet them? What are they trying to tell you? Just for a moment, take a breath in, hold it, gently sigh out. Do you feel the stillness? I encourage you to engage that practice, or another mindfulness practice several times during the day and still your mind. And when you’re ready, listen carefully, your wisdom will be ready to talk to you.