Practising stillness

Today was a clear and mild spring day, perfect for one of my favourite outdoor activities: doing nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. This isn't a mindless, careless undertaking. It is actually a difficult discipline, the art of being still.

It isn't easy because our lives are so charged with business and responsibility. We're used to constantly using our minds productively and efficiently. Silence only comes at the end of the day when we crash into sleep, or even worse, descend into the shadows of anxiety and insomnia. Our brains weren't designed for the constant clamour to which most of us subject them.

Not efficient but essential

Stillness isn't efficient, it doesn't have a purpose, but neither is it a waste of time. In fact, it may be as essential an emotional need as love and belonging. One of the benefits of yoga is that it cultivates physical and inner quiet.

But there are many other meditative approaches that can have the same effect. One of the rewards of living close to Nature is that time spent in her company fosters a spirit of serenity. Her rhythms and patterns are salutary to the soul. Anyone who regularly goes walking, riding, jogging or sitting in natural surroundings will experience this. And to attain greater profit, one may actively practise the art of stillness.

Benefits of stillness

It's unwise to undertake this kind of meditation with specific expectations of what we'll get out of it. Being peaceful is an end in itself. Nevertheless, it is helpful to start by considering why we're doing it. Here are a few good things that can come out of it:

1. Quiet solitude is good for mental health.
2. By taking a break from usual thought patterns, we can get to know ourselves better.
3. We allow Nature to teach us through our observations and intuitions.
4. For sheer enjoyment, being quiet gives us opportunities to witness aspects of nature we otherwise would miss.

Each summer, a family or two of common mergansers frequent the bay in front of my cottage. These diving ducks are quite shy, and will not allow anyone to walk down to the dock without startling and flying away. But on a quiet evening it is possible to sit motionless on the dock and wait for them to come swimming near. The loons, too, though less shy, are bound to approach more closely if you wait patiently.

In The Wild Within, Paul Rezendes says:

One of the ways thought dulls us is by making us think we're looking when we're not....Stalking meditation demands that we pay full attention to every footfall, every breath, every sound we make, each nuance of landscape, wind, humidity. Stalking gives us an opportunity to move away from the tiny perspective of thought and self into an all-encompassing awareness. When we are in this awareness we see with the eyes of the whole universe.