As a life purpose coach, I notice the choices I make between movement and stillness with my clients. My mission is about aligning actions to purpose. Traditionally, coaches in the U.S. have been known to help people become go-getters, achieve their goals, manage time, become more marketable. Although these elements can be essential in a capitalist economy and in life in general, there are other elements that might be even more critical to an individual at a certain point in life. I cannot express how many clients have come to see me who are totally exhausted from overachieving, spinning their wheels, or just treading water but overdrawing on their energy reserves. They can convey what is wrong, but admit their default approach of DOing only exhausts them further. Sometimes the approach and attitude are so out of whack they know they need an outside perspective. That’s where I come in. And believe me, it’s often more challenging to propose stillness than to propose another route of movement. Stillness is edgy–just ask anyone who has tried meditation for the first time!
In the past I’ve been really good at planting a lot of seeds and moving growth, making big things happen; but the question comes, when is stillness important? In permaculture we learn how food forests take years to develop, while garden soil turned over year after year with new seeds planted can move quite quickly toward growth. Meanwhile, every year, I’m back to the drawing board in my garden, adding nutrients and compost to the soil and planting newly bought seeds and watering and weeding. My energy investment only lasts one year. In permaculture, on the other hand, I might adjust the slope of the earth a bit to encourage rain to come toward my food forest, but once I’ve introduced plants there is not much more to do than just LET IT ALL BE, and things move at their own natural pace. My energy investment can last decades.
So the question is, When to move (and how), and when to be still? And how do we know? There are many signs. If you’ve been stagnated a long time but remain in denial, trying to wiggle your way into momentum, try going deeper into the stagnation, get to know it, give it permission to empty, and notice the core feelings behind the triggers or judgements you feel when you’re life doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. (see John Ruskan’s book Emotional Clearing for more information–I’m no therapist, but I reference his book often!). Similarly, if you feel like you’re spinning your wheels, falling down a lot, dropping, or spilling things, you could benefit from even a few moments of stillness. Falling down is the Earth’s invitation to be present with the ground, to get more grounded.
I once asked my dear friend and guide, How do I know when I can really take off? And do you know what he said? “When you feel support all around you, then you know you can take off.” To be sure, the amount of support that is felt directly determines how high you can fly, how much to move or take action.
Consider the following practice–add more stillness with what isn’t working and move with what is.
Enjoy.
Susan
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