“Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know that I am.
Be still and know.
– Saint Patrick
Saint Patrick expands, or perhaps simplifies, this thought from Psalm 46. The power of learning to be still, which is at its very essence, simply learning to “be”.
I don’t know about you, but for this woman, it goes something like this:
Be still and know that the dishes aren’t done.
Be still and remember that you don’t have a plan for dinner yet.
Be still and get distracted by that article you were going to read.
Be still and know that your list of things to do just keeps growing.
Be still and and know that you have 10 people to respond to via text.
Be still and then discover that you are randomly scrolling through Facebook.
Be still and hear your own voice speaking back at you- ranting and raving about your faults and failure and all you need to do….do…do….
Be still. Just be.
“Getting to know you,
Getting to know all about you.
Getting to like you,
Getting to hope you like me.”
-Anna in “The King and I”
What if we took Anna’s little “love song” and sang it to ourselves. What if we could simply slow down enough to just “be” with ourselves, apart from the distractions and sound, the chaos and the clutter, the busy, busy, busy of our lives. What if we discovered that who we are is really quite remarkable, apart from what we do. What if we really learned to just “be” and could truly discover that in the “being”, we find the connection to the “I am”.
Be still and know that I am.
I am that I am. In that place of connection to our own hearts, we may just discover a deeper connection to our Creator, the One who lives and breathes and moves inside of us. The one Who is the Source of all that is good inside of us.
I’m going to be very, very honest. This doesn’t come easy to me. NOT EVEN CLOSE.
I’m a do-er, I thrive on busy, I love projects and goals setting, and doing ALL. THE. THINGS. My mind is creative and active. Slowing down physically and mentally is hard, hard, hard.
But the problem with all of that is that I have connected my identity with all of that doing, and have really disconnected from who I am.
Brené Brown says in Rising Strong:
“I define wholehearted living as engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. It means to cultivate the courage, compassion, and connection to wake up in the morning and think, No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough. It’s going to bed at night thinking, Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid but that doesn’t change the truth that I am brave and worthy of love and belonging.”
Mattie’s death has forced me down into that place that Brené describes as face down in the arena. She goes on to say that we like recovery stories to move quickly through the dark so that we can get to the sweeping redemptive ending. We want to skip to the last chapter of the story and make sure it all turns out okay. Sometimes we want to tear out the chapter we’re living and get a re-write.
I’ve chosen to SIT in this thing called grief (you can call it whatever you like in your own life: rejection, disappointment, failure, loss). We all know what it’s like to fall down in the arena. I’m choosing to sit it in so that I can feel all of the feelings. I’m choosing to find a way to learn to be still and know. As I heal, I keep sitting because there is so much to discover about who I really am, who I want to be.
I am discovering that I am creative and strong and brave and kind and full of compassion. I like me. And with this discovery, I am finding strength rise from the ashes.
Learning to just be.
I’m coming alive.
Photo via Visual hunt