Stillness and Action

How are you doing these days? Maybe feeling like a snail retreating into a shell anchored in a remote crevice, like a sizzling hot rocket whose navigation system is honed on way too many beacons, like a weeping spring heavy with the weight of minerals following gravity’s pull … so many amazing metaphors, and no doubt there are more apt ones for your world today.

In response to “how are you” questions these days, I (Debbie) find myself referring too often to roller coasters, I guess as a way of noting that there are ups and downs, and that experiences change moment to moment. The down sides of that metaphor are that in my youth I thought they were fun (some of the current ones definitely don’t feel fun), that they imply we can choose to get on or off the ride (sorta true, maybe, but doesn’t feel like much of a choice sometimes or that there’s equal access to that choice) and that there appear to be two settings … “on” (at breakneck speeds) or “off” (as in, off the ride).

It seems to me that in these moments we need a more fine-tuned, momentary sense of being able to balance stillness and action. Imagine a “roller coaster” with fine-tuned navigational controls allowing us to pause, to luxuriate in an amazing view or in preparation for a huge dive, to shift seats and speed settings, to rest without fear of what’s coming next, to move a little more quickly up the next mountainous climb, or to step over to a slow side track for a while.

I cherish my few moments of relative stillness and quiet – opportunities to be back in touch with my body, emotions or energy, to settle into non-action and consciously discard internal or external expectations of doing, to daydream or muse or take a nap. It’s amazing how often a period of stillness brings me later clarity in considering a situation, a more creative or collaborative response, insight into a dynamic underlying what’s happening, or just the energy to put one foot in front of the other, one more time.

And, I’ll be honest – I get fidget-y with “too much” stillness. I actually do like being busy(-ish) and playing with projects. I want to be interacting and contributing in meaningful ways. I generally figure it’s OK if there are more things I’m interested in than I have time for. But as my partner, friends and work colleagues would no doubt note, my “actions” and busy-ness have ripple effects that aren’t always so positive, creating unintended expectations or pressure for folks who might like to be living more lightly, with a different form of work-life balance.

And so, in the end, doesn’t it always come back to balance? To acknowledging the gifts of both stillness (and reflection, quiet, rest) and action (acting out our lives and values with integrity, doing what serves our communities, families and ourselves)?

Leaving you with possible food for thought from this post by author Cory Muscara:

Action without stillness is reactivity. Stillness without action is resignation. Action informed by stillness is purpose.