Still

to be still and know

If we slow down, life will slow down for us.

All my life I’ve been rushing from one place to another, trying to get to the next place. I would find some sort of escape in always thinking about my next destination, but sadly as soon as I was there at that destination, I would never realise it because my mind would already be gone towards the next. 

In fact I was running away from myself and never reaching that next place. We all feel like time is melting away so quick, like days, weeks are going by and we realise one morning and ask ourselves – where is all that time gone. 

We are running away from our lives, from ourselves. 

The moment we stop, life stops with us. 

The moment I slow down, life slows with me. 

I ground myself into each moment and really pay attention. 

Where am I and how is my body taking up the space, perhaps by the window, perhaps outside near a tree. 

What am I doing? Thinking, thinking, trying to run away from my own mind, thinking about the past, thinking about what is to come, who I want to become, memories I want to live. 

The smells, the weight of the air and its texture, the contrast of lightness and darkness, the colours. 

Then there’s my body, right now, what do I feel? The moment I stop and just pay attention to my body, an infinite realm of possibility opens up: a world of stories my body is telling, of emotions it is feeling, of messages it is sending, of everything else that makes me wholly and uniquely my Self. 

We are so quick to reach to our phones in the hope for connection, for validation, for that morning message that is there too late or too dull, for something to get us through the day, to feed our minds with something we can hold unto and distract ourselves. 

The moment we look and feel into our body we will realise what it has to offer. 

Our body loves us, it takes care of us and is trying to communicate, to speak, to reconnect – but we never listen. 

I never do. I never take a moment to stop and think – what am I really feeling today? And if, and when we do, we’ll be surprised to see the beauty or perhaps the darkness of our memories, of our thoughts, of our fears that have been lurking there in the nooks and crannies of our minds left unattended for so long. We could be fearful, charmed or excited by the possibility. 

I have stopped running and I refuse to tire myself any longer with distractions. I refuse to be part of the chase in which we all are entangled, in the chase for the chronic promise of happiness, of something better in the next step and then the next one but never right now.

The next step is a mere illusion. We can never fully reach it because we are chasing more, at all times, always. 

There is only the moment we have right now. And right now it is enough. We are enough. As it is right now, every cell is in its right place, every hair despite its messiness is where it should be, every emotion we have despite its shadows should be there, every imperfection that we so murderously despise holds immense and untold beauty if we could simply see all as it is. 

And this moment has endless possibilities in it if we only we stop for a second and notice it all. 

If you smirk thinking this is cliché and you read this already on all the hip wellbeing unattainable magazines, then why are you still running?