Being Still

By Suzanne St. John-Crane, ALF National

If you’re like me, you cram your schedule chock full through December 23, trying to squeeze every last ounce of productivity out of the year before collapsing in a heap on the couch for a few days, or even a couple of weeks if you can swing it. That has been my go-to routine for as long as I can remember.

This year is a bit different for me though. The cadence has changed, and with a recent medical issue sidelining me in early December, I’ve had to let a new process play out with patience and curiosity. What does year-end feel like if I’m not cramming? What does slowing down, even shutting down early, mean? A slight wave of worry and guilt came over me, only to be tempered by doctor’s orders. I not only have permission to rest, but I’m required to.

One of the critical tools I relearned in ALF and became committed to is mindfulness. I remember during our Fellows class orientation weekend we were taught the principles of mindfulness and given the opportunity to practice different forms of mindful “being” – from sitting, to walking, even eating. We quickly discovered a few things about ourselves during that exercise. One, it’s hard to slow down. Two, food tastes better when we do. Three, most of us genuinely need more rest. (As evidenced by the snoring that filled the room during the mindful sitting exercise.)

Winter calls on us to retreat, go inward and hunker down for a minute. To slow our pace and appreciate the transition to a new year. As our ALF National Board Chair Sarah Greenman suggested recently, let’s not get trapped by the rush to New Year’s resolutions. We can and should appreciate the power of this pause.

Just in the last few days, we’ve all been drinking from the firehose of tragic news. One hit after another in heart wrenching fashion. I go through the cycle of shock, anger, grief, and struggling with what action to take. How to process these tragedies with my daughters. How to not let tragedy take over my life but not succumb to apathy either.

My world needs to get smaller, and I gravitate back to basics. During this forced rest, I’ve reestablished a meditation practice to help me move through fear, physical pain, and restlessness. Meditating around 20 minutes a day has no doubt helped with my healing, but more importantly, it’s been the necessary salve for my mental and emotional health.

Through rest – deep and intentional rest – we create the opportunity to see, hear, feel and think with more attention and clarity. I notice things differently. I pause before responding. I have the capacity for grace and forgiveness, which is key to my sanity. In work and community-building, I can see what is often invisible, because I’m moving too fast or acting from my own assumptions.  As our friend Otto Scharmer says, when we see challenges from a whole systems view, not just what’s on the surface, we can respond with more meaningful and sustained solutions.

My wish for you – through the hustle and bustle of the holidays and year-end push, through the emotional upheaval that unspeakable tragedies bring – is that you sink into mindful rest for longer than your anxious, driven self may tolerate. And – that you give others in your world permission to do the same. How about we all step off the hamster wheel and let our brains and souls get regrounded? Don’t jump into new year’s resolutions and visioning boards. Stay and play in the pause. If we are still long enough and listen hard enough, we may hear exactly what the universe needs us to know.

Blessings to all this holiday season.