Stillness
“Then because so many people were coming and going that they didn’t even have a chance to eat, He said to them, ‘Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.’” - Mark 6:31
It seems I harbor the perfect conditions for overcommitment. I’m a people-pleaser, who has set the precedent of saying ‘yes’ to the requests of other people and then proven to be fairly competent at meeting them.
I used to pride myself on my ability to be productive, to accomplish an inhuman list of tasks on any given day. But something has shifted over the past several years, and I’ve begun to realize that frantic busyness keeps me from being fully alive. While I might be capable of doing many things, I am not capable of doing them all at once. And when I try, I lose something precious in the process.
During the 2020 global pandemic, the holidays were far different than past years; our schedule of festivities limited in many ways. And while it was easy to focus on what was lost, I find myself also feeling appreciation of what was gained. There was more unhurried dinners at home. More evenings to cozy up by the fire. Time to bake cookies with the children rather than after they are in bed. Time to watch the list of classic Christmas movies we don’t usually have time for.
And I wonder if it isn’t something like the experience of stargazing in the countryside. Just as away from the lights of the town there are a multitude of stars that we do not ordinarily see, away from our usual holiday busy-ness we might find that stillness offers unexpected gifts.
We can focus on the darkness around us or look up to the stars.