About getting lost in stillness
ABOUT SERIES
Stillness can feel elusive going through the rhythm of daily life. For many, it becomes an active search that requires a set of spaces and routines designed to provide the right environment for stillness to become present in specific moments. Yet in some cases, like the one that sparked these words, stillness unconsciously revealed itself as part of the moment.
I found myself sitting on an old wooden bench along Mexico's South Pacific coast. To my right, a set began to roll through in perfect order, one after the other each wave hitting the sand in timeless harmony. To my left, miles, and miles of empty beach are surrounded by lush green hills and the first clouds of the storm in the far distance begin to pass by cutting through the blue mid-day sky. I get lost in the motions of the ocean and the sky for what feels like hours, a lucid meditation of sorts, where breathing becomes the only movement in my body.
When I finally regained consciousness, I realized I never intended for this moment to be as powerful as it was, but I recognized what led me to it. The places and moments we choose to be a part of, become our underlying invitation for stillness to come into our lives.
I stop writing and glance up to watch someone slowly making their way into the ocean about 500 meters ahead, I can’t help but wonder if this feeling is shared with others here, even if it was at different levels of strength and consciousness. Judging by how we all move and behave, it certainly feels that way, a shared energy that adds a human layer to the environment providing a sense of comfort that allows everyone to sink deeper. The more you engage with others, especially those who have made places like this their home, the more you realize that for some, it’s not about creating moments for stillness to happen, but about being in places where stillness is present. Places where achieving this state no longer becomes a search, it becomes an encounter, one that happens spontaneously and often, altering forever their views about the rhythm of life.
Reflecting on it all a couple of days after, I keep thinking that while I chose to be in that place, there’s something else that needed to happen for me to experience it the way I did, something I can only describe as the act of getting lost in the moment. An act that is present every time the seemingly ordinary and mundane transcend into something else. Every time a random night, a random trip, a random encounter, suddenly guides us in a direction that leaves us experiencing stillness, euphoria, passion, or adrenaline in a way that feels unique and powerful.
An act that requires only two things of us, the first, that we tune into the moment, understand where we are, the energy, the surroundings, the people, be aware of what's happening… the second, choosing to connect to their prevailing energy, letting go of our preconceived desires and plans, and allowing for what is unfolding to take us where it needs to take us.
Getting lost in the moment allowed me to experience stillness in such a lucid and vivid state that day, and looking back on other moments, it’s certainly led me to experience many other profound feelings and emotions. And even though I’ve described it as simple and powerful, surrendering to it has never felt easy.
Ultimately, I know I want to continue to be put in situations where I’m called to get lost, hoping that when that time comes, I’ll have the courage to surrender once again.