Savoring Stillness: Quiet

The idea of being still. The Universe has been none too subtle in sending me this message. Stillness, not in the sense of being frozen. Quite the opposite actually. Finding peace in stillness, in not moving, allowing my heart and mind to settle, to feel, to process the feels...whoooof! 

Can you do this? Truly be still, assess your mind set, and acknowledge stressors? Anyone feeling that queasiness, the need to move, to avoid? 

After Robbie died, my mantra was 'Tamp it down, tamp it down, wayyyy down!' But that was then. I needed to stay busy. I needed to survive. Recovery, finding life (credit to Salman Rushdie for putting it so perfectly in his memoir, Knife) means DEALING WITH THE ISSUES I had been keeping outside my bubble. 

Yikes, right?

Last week, I headed to Spin to Win Horsemanship, Naomi Rutter's lovely farm in Chatham, Michigan. Cinder and I were participating in a Balance Through Movement Method clinic led by Stacia Strong. The focus (in a nutshell) was helping each horse manage their state of mind, to be comfortable in a place of stillness, and thereby allowing real connection and physical alignment. The Shawna Karrasch podcast I watched this morning was about stillness. Not coincidence that each of these discussed and showed how stillness builds safety, a horse's number one need.

As I worked with Cinder and observed full days of others, what repeatedly floated to the top was the absolute power and truth that people need this as much as horses. I remembered sessions with my counselor when I was fighting for breathe after losing my son. Watching a horse fidget and fight the feelings, I was right back in Elizabeth's office, crying, yelling at her for telling me to face my feelings, to sit in my emotions. She supported me with her presence (just like the trainers were supporting our horses), but didn't redirect me or try to pull me away from the energy. I needed to figure out how to feel things and understand I would be okay.

In order to get through our trauma/grief/pain/feelings, we have to go through them. It sounds obvious, but it is hard. It seems easier to stay busy, to keep moving, to evade and avoid the tough stuff. Are you a person who manages their 'stuff' or keeps moving? As one brilliant participant summarized her state, "I'm a bundle of fucked up!" We all have our stuff. Life happens. We can't change that, but we do have the power to change how we manage things.

How lovely to find peace. It feels safe, this knowing I am open to handling what life throws at me. I didn't come to this place by myself. I needed help and sought out great professionals. Even now, fourteen years after Robbie's death, I lean into resources and friends and continue pushing myself forward into the healing process. 

Much like my horsemanship, my search for stillness is a journey of twists and turns, winding hills and valleys. The difference now is how I view the terrain, not as a dreaded challenge but rather as an opportunity to learn more about myself. It can still be frightening, but the quiet that waits for me on the other side is what I search for now.

It is hard work.

The quiet and stillness you will find is worth it, and you do not have to do it alone.