Be Still and Know

Share

 

I went to dancing on Saturday night, around the fire, with the wind and some rain.

Sensual.

And primal.

Moments of just the music in my ears and my body moving, the earth beneath my feet, the sensation on my skin.

In one way so simple, something ancient.

Moving to music.

It does do much, on so many levels for us, thus dance.

I often compare the dance to massage, the dance of my hands on your skin. The sensation of the touch, the space it opens in your body, the stillness within, the intimacy of our eyes meeting for a moment.

I feel new space open in my body, in my dance. The deep stillness when the movement stops.

 

In this simple experience is so much, as in the simple experience of touch, the simple moment of looking into each other’s eyes, the simple breath that we take, your heart against mine.

And I see how simple many of the truths of life are.

How easy they are, and how complex we’ve made them.

How conditioned we are to chase, to never be satisfied, always wanting, comparing.

The endless hamster wheel of wanting.

 

I had an experience recently.

I was at home, it was raining, I had some coffee, I might have been thinking about writing something.

And the energy in the room changed, suddenly.

I closed my eyes and saw myself on a vast plain, as far as the eye could see.

There was nothing there, other than me.

And I felt a presence.

Tears started rolling down my cheeks.

I sat there, I don’t know how long.

The plain with nothing had everything, the presence was inside if me, was everything.

And slowly it slipped away.

It was a while before I could move.

Something in me shifted.

 

Part of the awareness was seeking. We make the space, we sit in the quiet, it comes to us. It’s within us, it is us. And in the quiet we hear it, feel it, see it.

This is what we meditate for, this is what we breathe for, practice for, dance for.

The stillness.

 

The path I’ve chosen, one of them, is touch, a path to stillness.

A path that quietens the mind, that gentles the body, that opens the heart.

A path that allows us to go within.

A path that relaxes us. A simple word, relax. And I often think we don’t understand the power of it. To relax.

To relax is to soften.

To soften is to open.

To open is to drop within.

 

I’ve seen how touch is a meditation that takes us both there, giver and receiver, as much as that’s how we often see the experience.

There’s an offering in this touch.

We offer ourselves to each other, we offer ourselves to possibility.

We offer ourselves, our bodies, as the portal to drop into the quiet, into the stillness to feel the pulsation, to become the pulsation.

It’s there, all the time.

Waiting for us.

As we seek it, it seeks us, and in the stillness we meet.

 

Be still.

Too simple.

We want the complex, and the fireworks, the intensity.

I came to see that ecstasy is subtle, quiet.

Be still.

 

I think in the world at the moment that’s one of the most powerful things we can do.

Be still.

The panic, the fear, the anger, the frustration, the confusion, begin to melt.

In the being, not the doing.

Be still.

In the silence that settles we’ll hear what’s within us.

The voice that says Be still, and Know.

 

 

I am more and more using and teaching micro-practices of meditation, breath, sensuality and touch.

Here’s one for a moment of stillness.

 

Take a breath in a deep, deep breath.

Slowly breathe out.

Bring your hand together, fingers and palms touching.

Take a breath in and as you breathe out relax and soften your hands.

For a few breaths become aware of your hands resting against each other.

And have the awareness that your hands are sinking into each other.

Take a moment to be with what arises.

Take a breath in, slowly exhale, slowly open your eyes.