full stop.....?

Jack Pine

Tom Thompson, Group of Seven

In an article yesterday in the Globe and Mail author, Yann Martel who was writing a piece challenging the Prime Minister to take some time to "be still" in order to read and appreciate the breadth and beauty of the writing generated by this country wrote something that made me smile as well as reflect.

"To read a book, one must be still. To watch a concert, a play, a movie, to look at a painting, one must be still. Religion too makes use of stillness, notably with prayer and meditation. Just gazing upon a still lake, upon a quiet winter scene -- doesn't that lull us into contemplation? Life it seems, favours moments of stillness to appear on the edges of our perception and whisper to us, "Here I am. What do you think?"

"Then we become busy and the stillness vanishes, yet we hardly notice, because we fall so easily for the delusion of busyness, whereby what keeps us busy must be important, and the busier we are with it, the more important it must be. And so we work, work, work, rush, rush, rush. On occasion, we say to ourselves, panting, "Gosh, life is racing by." But on the contrary: Life is still. It is we who are racing by."

Interesting that Martel never mentions writing. And he shouldn't have. Writing is not conducive to stillness. The act of writing churns up the contemplations and captures the stillness. It is a very busy, mind racing (at times) process. The grace notes between the act of putting words to thoughts, before one even begins to generate the ideas, the direction with which one wants to go with a piece of writing, when one does take the time to read, to pray, to inhale the beauty of the landscape all around us is stillness.

It is stillness which feeds our soul.
It is stillness which nurtures our creativity.

Then, why are we so afraid of welcoming stillness into our lives when it can add such depth and breath to our need for creativity? More specifically, why is it more difficult to welcome stillness during the deep part of the night? Is it because it seems foisted onto you, with no real cubby holes to shelter ourselves from the shadows we do our very best to avoid during our clickety clack busyness?

The other night, I woke at 3 am. This happens often. I have no problems falling into a deep sleep at a regular hour. None at all. But, as quickly as I fall asleep, it is that quickly when I find myself WIDE awake. My sleep deprivation.........my insomnia began after years of disruptive sleep when my children were babies, and has continued to haunt me. Often I use the time to write or read others blogs. Sometimes I'll turn the TV on to lull me back to sleep or pick up a book or a magazine and read. It's quiet...........I feel safe................it's alright. I can envision others who are awake and feel connected to them.

Sometimes however the stillness becomes a stark ugly gape of loneliness, which is how it felt the other night. A bit of panic, a desire to be with someone, a surge of fear resonating the realities of life and death, and an inability to focus on any busyness tactics whatsoever. Quiet felt like an enemy. Even telling myself that the deep part of the night lasts for a short duration didn't help. As stillness was foisted on me, many messy complicated thoughts drove it to a loud crescendo in my mind. Instead of initially going with it, accepting it as an opportunity to sort out my feelings, my mind fought the stillness, until finally I reached a point where I decided to surrender to it.


I let the feelings out as I sat cuddled under a blanket on the couch while looking out a the darkness of the night. No stars. No moon. No movement. Just an onslaught of thoughts which left me feeling very small in a big world. Alone. Stripped of armour. Struggling in my own poverty. Even in a home that is comfortable and filled with my sleeping loved ones. Alone. Trying to sort out the messiness which gets covered up during the day by confident busyness, by direction and distraction.

And it was alright. The longer I remained physically still, breathing and thinking became more still. I focused on the stillness as I slowed down. I could feel myself more accepting of the vulnerability I was feeling, knowing full well that I am no different than everyone else in this vast village............. it was alright. I don't have all the answers. I am more than the persona I project in my busy life. Poverty is where one is touched by God.

After an hour or so, I picked up the book "Becoming Human" by Jean Vanier which I had been reading the night before. I had a few pages left........beginning with this paragraph:

"To be free is to know who we are, with all that is beautiful, all the brokenness in us; it is to love our own values, to embrace them, and to develop them; it is to be anchored in a vision and a truth but also to be open to others and so, to change. Freedom lies in discovering that the truth is not a set of fixed certitudes but a mystery we enter into, one step at a time. It is a process of going deeper and deeper into an unfathomable reality."

The truth shall set you free.........hmmmmm...................

Stillness foisted during the middle of the night stark darkness is where truth, our own truth hovers........cloaked in frightening realities. It is where we can, if we are willing to look and listen, take a step into the abyss where freedom transcends. It is the place where we are the most human. Truth is not an easy road. Truth can be painful.............the rippling reflections of truth sometimes make us turn the other way and run, they can make us feel very alone. Truth can also be the key to recognizing our connections to one another in a place where we are all impoverished.

The rest of the long night flew by as I spent time finishing an amazing book written by a truly inspiring man, sitting still under my blanket realizing that there's nothing better than time spent figuring out a mystery. Did I find any answers? Perhaps a few steps towards some answers. Nothing mind boggling gobsmacking........no. But a few steps were taken towards my understanding of who I am and where I fit, of what it is to be an adult human being. Lots of middle of the night stillness in my future to try to wrestle with the shadows.

One shadow at a time.....it's the best I can do.

PS............If you havent read Becoming Human, or any of the other books and essays written by Jean Vanier, founder of the L'Arche communities, I would highly recommend it.