Be still. Sure, no problem. Let me just quiet my brain, shut out all the distractions, ignore the multitude of tasks surrounding me, and simply be still. But this is exactly what we need to do.
It is here that I reluctantly confess to those who read this, I am a control freak and being still calls me into a space of uncertainty. I am ambivalent in regards to the unknown. On one hand, I am adventurous – I love travel and discovering new things. I love to have the freedom to explore; to step off the beaten trail and be amazed at the revelation of the unexpected. But, even when I explore, I do not venture out so far that I could not eventually find my way home. My adventures have boundaries – I know my limits to my strength, knowledge, emotions, and resources and I do not intentionally veer beyond my line of confidence. I only walk the tightrope of life where I know I have a secure safety net under me.
On the other hand, the few times when I have actually had the courage to be still and let go of my control have been the most incredible times of my life. In the brevity of these moments, I experienced an intimacy between God, creation, and my soul that is beyond the capacity of the English language’s ability to describe. Rudolf Otto described these moments as the “numinous tremendum” or the Holy Other Experience that produces both awe and fear at the same time. St. Theresa of Avila described it as perfect union between the bride and the bridegroom. If you have had such an experience, you know what I am talking about. If you have not, I apologize for I am so limited in bringing the experience to life on paper. But I can tell you, these moments are so real, so filling, that the brief moment can sustain the soul through years spiritual drought.
Being still is letting go of control. Letting go of our expectations, assumptions, and presumptions and allowing come what may. And this takes a lot of trust. Trusting that we can walk the tight rope and believing that even if we fall, someone will catch us. It is letting go of the restrictions we place on our emotions. It is resisting the urge to hold back our whole selves during times of communion and prayer with God. It is opening ourselves to those we trust, not worrying about their judgments.
There is another “B” word to introduce, and that is boundaries. While it is good to be still and have this openness, we cannot be this vulnerable all the time. We do have tasks to tend to and responsibilities to manage. There are people in this world who should not be trusted; people who have not earned the right to have full access to our inner being.
Boundaries are wise, but when we build up the fences around our lives let us not neglect to include a gate. Healing needs to have time with the gate open. It needs us to be open to new possibilities beyond what our imaginations can control. It needs us to prioritize time in our lives (preferably our daily lives) where we can simply be still, breathe, and allow to come what may.
Next . . . “C” as in Confession.
It is here that I reluctantly confess to those who read this, I am a control freak and being still calls me into a space of uncertainty. I am ambivalent in regards to the unknown. On one hand, I am adventurous – I love travel and discovering new things. I love to have the freedom to explore; to step off the beaten trail and be amazed at the revelation of the unexpected. But, even when I explore, I do not venture out so far that I could not eventually find my way home. My adventures have boundaries – I know my limits to my strength, knowledge, emotions, and resources and I do not intentionally veer beyond my line of confidence. I only walk the tightrope of life where I know I have a secure safety net under me.
On the other hand, the few times when I have actually had the courage to be still and let go of my control have been the most incredible times of my life. In the brevity of these moments, I experienced an intimacy between God, creation, and my soul that is beyond the capacity of the English language’s ability to describe. Rudolf Otto described these moments as the “numinous tremendum” or the Holy Other Experience that produces both awe and fear at the same time. St. Theresa of Avila described it as perfect union between the bride and the bridegroom. If you have had such an experience, you know what I am talking about. If you have not, I apologize for I am so limited in bringing the experience to life on paper. But I can tell you, these moments are so real, so filling, that the brief moment can sustain the soul through years spiritual drought.
Being still is letting go of control. Letting go of our expectations, assumptions, and presumptions and allowing come what may. And this takes a lot of trust. Trusting that we can walk the tight rope and believing that even if we fall, someone will catch us. It is letting go of the restrictions we place on our emotions. It is resisting the urge to hold back our whole selves during times of communion and prayer with God. It is opening ourselves to those we trust, not worrying about their judgments.
There is another “B” word to introduce, and that is boundaries. While it is good to be still and have this openness, we cannot be this vulnerable all the time. We do have tasks to tend to and responsibilities to manage. There are people in this world who should not be trusted; people who have not earned the right to have full access to our inner being.
Boundaries are wise, but when we build up the fences around our lives let us not neglect to include a gate. Healing needs to have time with the gate open. It needs us to be open to new possibilities beyond what our imaginations can control. It needs us to prioritize time in our lives (preferably our daily lives) where we can simply be still, breathe, and allow to come what may.
Next . . . “C” as in Confession.
Thanks to Ruth (Hubbard), I am now following your blog and really appreciating it, Heather. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteCharlene Canada
remember me? :)