“The stillness within will never be greater than the stillness with-out.”
What a wonderful nudge to sit with as I watch the sun remain in the sky for just a few more minutes today than yesterday…and the day before that…and the day before that…
It is such a relief when I realize that the sun has hung in the sky for a little longer today. A few more minutes to enjoy the stillness within my soul, which in turn will give me the ability to embrace the stillness on the outside. To embrace it and to create it.
Of course, the idea of creating stillness on the outside of our lives begs the question, “Can we ever be completely still?” It runs along the idea of total self-sufficiency. Depending on the level of “off the grid” that one would seek to live, we are challenged to ever be fully self-sufficient. Just having a vehicle at our disposal requires some kind of dependence on others. Having access to communication, emergency services also requires even the mountainous of mountain people to reach out to society. The same is true for the stillness that lies “with-out” as the Spirit put it. While we walk (or ski or snowshoe) in the woods we may be away from the rumbles of vehicles, the ringing and dinging of phones, the ticking and tocking of clocks, we are still in the midst of a natural world that is completely full of the peaceful sounds of…stillness.
That stillness…in the natural world…water rushing over rocks, leaves falling from trees, limbs swaying in the wind…those are the sounds of the Spirit with-out. And THAT stillness…THAT stillness can only be realized when the stillness within is just that…still.
As the sun hangs in the sky just a little longer, the temptation to fill that time with busy-ness, errands, the “one more thing” of the day is a temptation that in and of itself needs to be…stilled. Rather than filling those extra hours of sunlight with extra “things” on my calendar, I plan to fill them with the sounds of stillness…and a deeper relationship with the sounds of the stillness “with-out.” Amen.
Peace
Pastor Pam