Many people aspire to sit quietly. I’m one of them. I know the benefits. I know the reasons why I avoid it. I’m busy. I’ve got stuff to do. Or I get sucked into staring at a screen, and the time of my life disappears.
I also know that each minute spent sitting quietly is an investment in myself and my well-being. It shifts my attention from outside to inside. On occasion, it shifts the attention from inside to wide open nothing/everything. Okay, that’s a hard one to explain, and not something to be controlled or even wanted or expected (wanting and expecting chases it off). But focusing on the inside is a powerful blessing.
There’s a lot happening on the inside. There are near-constant thoughts, ideas, emotions, nervous responses, that do not serve us well. By sitting quietly, we get to practice observing the way our thoughts, ideas, emotions, and responses happen. As we observe, we practice releasing judgement. We allow ourselves and this moment to be exactly as they are. We are the way we are for reasons outside our control, knowledge, or consent. The only way to heal ourselves is to study the condition.
This is the condition, from my view: I’ve been in many different homes over the years, as part of my employment. Some people have a TV blaring all day and night, with their favorite programs rotating through daily. When I enter those homes, it’s hard for me to converse. My attention gets drawn to the screen and the noise. I don't understand how the people can sit and chat as if nothing is going on in the background. And yet, my favorite mental and emotional programs are constantly playing in the background of my experience. Sometimes it’s the same stories and conversations playing over and over, in their rotation. When I’m out of sorts, I can be fully consumed with replaying them, clinging to my anger, anxiety, fear, etc for dear life. Sometimes, there is just a constant buzz of static in the background, which I don’t even notice until I notice. When I sit quietly, I discover that honing my attention on these noisy, disruptive, and distracting programs (instead of ignoring or avoiding them) helps to simmer them down. Beyond the noise is quiet, and quiet is a gift we can grant ourselves.
When I first started sitting quietly, I felt like a failure because my mind was anything but quiet. For some reason, I thought I had to sit perfectly still, and the act of scratching an itch or shifting slightly in my seat defeated the entire purpose. The unmet expectations could make the whole undertaking miserable. Oh, there was lots of negative judgement involved in how incompetent I was at simply sitting! Funny how we look at experts, gurus who have been practicing sitting quietly for decades, and expect the same outcome as we first start to practice.
It's important to remember the yogic principle of Ahimsa—non-violence, causing no harm to anyone or anything. This principle must be applied to our own selves first, and that is a great place to start as we settle in for a quiet moment or two of sitting. We cannot do it wrong.
When sitting quietly, we don’t have to do anything. That’s the point: taking one moment in which there is nothing to do, nothing to fix, nothing to change, nothing to control or pretend to control. It’s a moment to explore, to observe what’s happening inside. Inside is the only place where life happens, no matter how distracted we may be by outside.
It helps to have a focal point to return to, as the mind drifts off as it surely will. A sound, a word or phrase, a visual cue or imagery are helpful focal points. I use my breath. Expect the mind to drift, just as smells and feelings and noises may drift through the experience. Allow everything to be exactly as it is and observe resistance with no judgement.
As we practice sitting quietly, for one moment or many, we create a sweet and quiet home from which to function in the world.
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