“When given the permission to be still, I love it. But it’s hard for me to do it when there’s a million other things to do.”
We’ve done the same routine for thousands of nights. For the last 18.5 years, we’ve gone to bed married. Not always loving the circumstances, but believing love will carry us through them.
“I felt at peace, I experienced something deeply spiritual…”
As we wound down the day, she was recounting her virtual class, one of many nights she’s sacrificing in pursuit of her Master’s. The highest degree these four walls have ever seen.
If you’ve ever met her, you just know…
She’s got a motor. She’s got class. There’s not a person that she doesn’t meet with wisdom, grace, and compassion. There’s not a project that she doesn’t tackle with tenacity, a clear plan, and a beautiful outcome.
So as she explained her experience, of a professor forcing a video-off, zoom meditation intercession for her and her classmates, I was listening.
“He started with us meditating on the full phrase – be still and know that I am God…”
Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on the breath. Nothing else matters. Let the truth soak in.
“Then he cut it to – be still and know…”
Bring your attention to the breath.
“After a few minutes, it was just – be still…”
The rise and the fall of the breath.
“And finally, just – be….”
A thousand notifications will come our way today. A dozen meetings will fill our calendar. A hundred emails will need a response.
None of them bad, most of them, really good.
But where are we building in the quiet?
When do we allow the breath to do the talking?
How are we pursuing the stillness?
What would happen if we did?
Who would we become?
“My body, and my soul, needed it. I was craving it, and I didn’t even know it.”
“Me too,” I said, as we flipped off the light.