Stillness: The Courageous & Critical Act of Our Time

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived...I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life... 

- Henry David Thoreau (emphasis my own)

In the middle of January I went into the woods for 72+ hours of “Do Not Disturb” time. Pure bliss. I don’t know what time of day I rose or when I went to sleep, or ate. I moved intuitively throughout the day and never saw a phone or computer screen. What I did see is how the waxing moon moves across the sky. How many shooting stars can be seen in a glance. How the fire crackles and snaps, fueled by just enough space and logs. And how much clarity and ease comes from letting go. Sweet surrender without a twinge of guilt, absolute full permission to receive. I extended my daily reflection practices over the full day, reading books, meditating, journaling over 100 pages, preparing healthy vegetable-based meals, and indulging in the pleasure and wisdom of Mother Nature. 

In this state of awareness, presence, and reflection, I asked myself “what it is that is wanting to emerge from me, who am I becoming?” Am I fully awake and aware as I journey through this life? What gift is hidden in me to be shared as my contribution to shaping this extraordinary world? I have a practice (not a perfection) of paying attention to my thoughts and reactions, my habits and patterns, my defaults that may not always be the most nourishing ways of being, so that I might witness them without judgement (practicing!), become aware, and nurture more nourishing habits, boundaries, more creative and fulfilling ways of being. A practice that is unfashionable and an ill fit on the hamster wheel of busyness in business and exhaustion we’ve come to unconsciously adopt as our way of being and leading.

What do the meanings of stillness, surrender, pause, presence, reflection, rest, have to do with leadership? To me it has everything to do with a new way of leading - and living - more purposefully, collectively, and compassionately. A fire cannot burn without a space equal to the fuel, the spaces in between. 

Has exhaustion become your state of being? What if you were to gift yourself permission to surrender, and to do so regularly? How bold! A radical act of courage in today’s society, particularly in the west, and it is part of a new way of leading. A way that is the antidote we need in order to create the conditions for sustainably thriving humans, planet, and businesses.

 If we don’t begin now, in this exhausting period begging us to slow down, then when? And who will we be on the other side if we don’t answer the call? What might we be risking by not pausing to listen to what our bodies are telling us, pleading with us for?

NATURAL CYCLES OF STILLNESS

I’m talking about rhythmic, cyclical, and conscious daily practices of intentional stillness. Not a night of too little sleep, not the weekend after a week of exhaustion, not a luxurious spa retreat after a year of beating ourselves up. If that is the only pause, then we’re merely continuing ping pong-like highs and lows and running on empty in between.

What might we be capable of co-creating for a better future if instead we took a hint from nature? She’s pretty darn smart!

We cannot sustainably operate at the height of summer always, nor can we drop instantly into the depths of winter for short stints and expect to come out ready for summer once again. We also need transition periods, spaces in between. Regular (daily!) gentle cycles of stillness as a practice is actually less disruptive and arguably more “efficient” - if you like that term - over the long term than the ping pong system we subscribe to now. One of my favorite mid-day tricks this past year working remotely has been to look out the window for a few minutes and let myself be awestruck and joy-filled just by watching the inquisitive juncos, playful finches, and vibrant cardinals, out there wild and free.

Why is the thing we know is good for us, always at the bottom of our list, or isn’t even listed in the first place? What gold might we discover in ourselves if we intentionally pause to listen?

What is it we might be avoiding by tuning out the stillness within ourselves, by turning up the volume outside us and pretending we cannot hear the voice within? What lurking “monster” under the bed do we think we are protecting ourselves from with constant movement, like a sheet pulled up over our eyes, keeping us in our own darkness? And what if that monster’s shadow is only that? The shadow of something completely different, wise, and kind, had we only chosen to be curious and brave. How might the uncomfortable places within us be reframed as gifts, as the guides and teachers they really are.

Befriend the stillness. Be curious about even the uncomfortable and conflicting feelings which may arise - these reflections are wise and hold the key to our healing and growth. Reframe surrender as strength and courage, not a weakness, against the backdrop of our zooming society. This is an act of self-compassion and courage, a return to our humanness as leaders. And while maybe the most over-looked, conscious stillness is quite possibly the most critical piece of our unlocking as we pursue purpose at the intersection of our vocations and lives.

When your eyes are tired

the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone,

no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark

where the night has eyes

to recognize its own

...

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet

confinement of your aloneness

to learn

anything or anyone

that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

- Sweet Darkness by David Whyte

OUR BLINDING URGENCY

Pausing, taking a breath, reflecting, intentional slowing down for clarity and creativity’s sake, following joy and ease, pursuing purpose and our values, relying on the sun as a clock rather than our phones, turning to nature for answers instead of the depleting status quo we find behind our screens…all of this readily available nourishment is under-valued in a productivity, efficiency, instant gratification, and “money, power, fame” indulgent society. We live in a state of fear of loss and never enough, lack of abundance, struggle, constant competition, and never-ending in-motion alway-on modes. It’s no wonder then that we experience high rates of anxiety, depression, illness, apathy, exhaustion, and ego vs eco-driven solutions (me vs we).

If conscious pausing is the antidote to the hamster wheel system we habitually (unconsciously) choose to participate in, why then, is it so difficult (and luxurious) to unplug? To become aware of our own breath in our bodies. To observe the natural cycles of nature and their similarities to our own human-ness. To quiet the noise and listen in to what it is we really need in order to take the next right step, to seek out our own blindspots for their teachings, to listen to another, to become the leader we know we’re capable of being. To ask ourselves who we’ve become in the process of speeding through life without looking out the window to be inspired by the view. 

Where are we going so quickly? What might we be missing in our urgency to race ahead of one another instead of walking beside each other?

She found a place within that’s soft and forgiving and respectful and brave. She lives there now.

- Dr. Rebecca Ray

Where is bravery calling you to be kinder to yourself?

At the root of our difficulty with slowing down to tend to our own well-being (mind, body, and spirit) - or even to explore what that might mean to us and the limitless creative possibilities a state of well-being invites into our lives - seems to be a fear of what will happen in our absence - or presence - and how we’ll be perceived when we choose to not compete with the unfortunate status symbol of “I’m so busy” and instead follow our own self-compass(ion).

Why do we perpetuate the false and destructive thought patterns that we are not worthy or deserving of this gift to ourselves? Does our relationship with ourselves not serve as the foundation for all others? How has pausing to care for oneself become a materialized luxury today? Is it not a basic human right? Is this possibly the beginning of the brave and compassionate revolution we need to shape a better collective future at the intersections of business, society, the planet, and our lives?

WHO WE ARE AT WORK IS WHO WE ARE BECOMING

If we spend our greatest amount of time with our work, our vocation, our job, then who we are becoming in this environment is a good barometer of who we will be. Is this who you want to be? Does this version of you represent your greatest potential for peace, joy, generosity, compassion? And if not, where do you feel the discontent, and in what ways might it gently invite you to look deeper and ask yourself what you really need?

Bravery called me to call myself out. To stop what I was doing. To recognize old habit patterns, deep grooves I’m so conditioned to I may not even realize when I’m in them. Ways of being which keep me stuck. They sure don’t feel good! Bravery called me to soften, to listen to my body pleading for some quiet time to just be, to surrender to a more balanced-feminine way over the constant push, struggle, strive of unattainable perfection and the comparison trap that leaves us feeling we’ll never measure up. Bravery called me to reconnect with self care and self compassion as daily and reverent rituals - not a weekend or an annual retreat - in order to be more connected with myself and others. Bravery called me to come home to myself, to welcome ease even when my inner critic sometimes whispers cruel words. To see my reflection and listen to what she has to say, even if it’s not what “everyone else is doing” (thank goodness).

One day you finally knew

What you had to do, and began

Though the voices around you

Kept shouting

Their bad advice,

...

But little by little,

As you left their voices behind,

The stars began to burn

Through the sheets of clouds,

And there was a new voice,

Which you slowly

Recognized as your own

...

- The Journey, Mary Oliver

Early in the winter I got sick for the first time in many years. During that period I secretly came to the realization that I very much enjoyed a week of guilt-free rest, cancelled meetings, and open spaces. I kept silently whispering “thank you!” to my body for calling the shots and gifting me shameless quietude and time out. What the what?! Messed up, I know. I see you, and I know I’m not alone. I’m not alone in letting it get to such a point where my body sends a signal that cannot be misinterpreted.

When we don’t regularly (daily) pause and check in with ourselves, tend to our own needs, ask the courageous questions even if we don’t like the answer, then we risk looking up from the page, the screen, the window seat and suddenly we no longer recognize who is staring back at us.

Is this the version of ourselves we wanted to be for the world?

What are you risking by staying comfortable in old habit patterns which no longer serve you? What nourishing new habits might you invite to replace the old? How might you reconnect with your authentic self and gently draw this complete version of you toward the surface, out of the dark, and courageously into the world to contribute to a more equitable, beautiful and thriving future? What has to be true for this to happen? 

How might you ritualize - with awareness and intention - your own needs for a thriving, meaningful, purposeful life. A life fully lived. Every. Damn. Day.

LESSON OF A BEECH TREE IN WINTER

The marcescence of the North American beech tree outside my window in the woods last week held the lesson I needed in that moment of stillness. The beech is one of few deciduous trees which does not drop its leaves in autumn, and instead maintains a live stem connection until the spring. The leaves turn a crisp golden brown in autumn and with the stem remaining live the tree is better able to recycle its own nutrients during the winter months. As important as recycling its own nutrients, the winter stem connection protects the yet to emerge spring buds - the gift hidden within - from wildlife. As the spring bloom arrives, it gently pushes out last year’s leaf and a new season of growth is born. But most fascinating to me was this...when I first looked at the tree I noticed most leaves curled in on themselves, creating a funnel-like shape. Fewer of them appeared to maintain their original flat shape, and those that did seemed to be the majority sprinkled on the ground below, no longer standing guard over dormant buds and no longer participating in direct nutrient recycling. This going inward, the curling of the leaves, created a shape that could better weather the challenges of winter, thus hanging on to nourish the tree and protect the emergence of future buds more effortlessly.

I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.

- John O’Donohue

Nature is so wise, isn’t she? Seasons and their cyclical patterns, night turns into day, day to night. There is always a space for rest, replenishment, reflection, regrowth. Our own work days and work weeks follow a similar cycle if we let them, mornings like a soft spring, the mid-day of energetic summer, afternoon autumn, and winter by night. Monday as a new beginning, and Friday a call to slow down. We are worthy and deserving of caring for ourselves with wise and present cyclical rest and stillness, like nature does. The way the beech tree does, so as we contribute to the broader ecosystem, we too, are able to create our own conditions to reach our full potential and fully participate along the wending way of this one extraordinary life.