The Still Time

At 4:30 this afternoon I realized that, unexpectedly, there would be nobody home for dinner. I immediately imagined several positive outcomes. Firstly, and quite obviously, I would not be cooking. Secondly, I could stay at work a bit later and actually make a dent in my pile and not feel guilty about it. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, I could..........

The possibilities were seemingly endless. Yoga, running, swimming...I was clearly wanting the exercise......I must have spent 30 minutes figuring out what yoga class, if any, would fit into the new 2 hour window of free time. I finally had it figured out, though it would take some finagling. Janie, my 20 year old daughter would have to drop off some yoga cloths and a mat into my car, which she was instructed to leave at the train station. Great. Today would be an A+ Lenten day, I chided. I had woken early and read the bible. I went cross country skiing in the woods at sunrise, visited a sick friend, went to work, and now, lo and behold, a yoga class to finish the day. Perfect.

Well. Perfect in a different way. I missed my train, and missed Janie, and our cell phones were dead so we could not communicate, so there was significant walking around in the dark cold before finding each other. One yoga class and then another slithered by. I could still swim. Or, I could run in the dark, or, I could........

By the time I walked into the empty house I was immediately aware, in boldly flashing vividness, that I was trying way too hard to fill the empty space. One night of yoga was not going to change my body or my Lenten journey. The act of trying to make a class work, was exactly the opposite of what yoga is supposed to do. With deep awareness of my silly frenzy, I simply lit a fire in the fireplace, showered, poured a glass of wine, and started writing. There is no music, nothing louder than an occasional dog barking or the furnace running or, the sound of my fingers on the keyboard.

The stillness makes my feel idle at first. The two acts of being are very different, however. With stillness, I am aware of my own skin. I am aware of my imperfections, and I am aware of my goodness. I can actaully "get it" when I am still, and quiet. I can think, and feel, and reflect and just be. I am trying not to plan yoga classes or search for writing jobs or face book my friends....but this is hard. I am a social being, and being still is not as easy for me as perhaps it could be. But, it feel like a good Lenten experience.

I am done with grading myself for Lent, or, life for that matter. Instead I am going to try and be still, for a portion of every day, and see what happens. It might be as hard as resisting chocolate but I think the rewards may be far reaching. We shall see.

Be still friends. Be silent.

Slow down! It is Lent!