Be Quiet, Be Still … The Universe Is Trying to Tell You Something

“Silence helps us reflect and see ourselves, the people around us, and life more clearly.” Thich Nhat Hanh

I’ve been rereading Henry David Thoreau’s Walden (Life in the Woods) as I begin this summer in the little beach house we’ve been coming to for many years now. It is quite the tonic to the omnipresent affairs-of-life living that most of us are leading these days. Thoreau “escaped” society for 2 years and lived a life of quiet contemplation in a cabin he built on land owned by Ralph Waldo Emerson. I put the word escaped in quotes because he didn’t isolate himself completely. He visited the nearby town of Concord regularly for supplies and for regular, if not scheduled, conversations with townspeople. But most of his life at that time was solitary, living with his own sensations, thoughts, and impressions in the midst of miles of surrounding woods.

We spend so much time these days taking care of things, attending to the endless affairs and demands of life, working, voraciously watching endless news reports and questionable news stories, eating for entertainment and novelty, and so many other seemingly obligatory preoccupations that most of us do not have room, or don’t make room, for the quiet and stillness that inspiration needs in order to come alive and shower us with its blessings. Just one insight about your life and yourself, from that unfathomable and mysterious place deep inside you, can change everything you experience outside of you. That inspirational thought is sitting there inside you, waiting to be tapped and made conscious, if you just sit for a while, being quiet and being still, with nothing to do or say except breathe and just be.

Inspiration needs room, space, and time.

It is your “I’m alive” time. Inspiration likes big questions, such as, Why am I here? Does my life matter? and What do I really want? And it needs you to make a conscious decision to put the affairs of modern life on hold for at least a little while to allow that inspiration or insight to arise. You will be quite surprised, possibly amazed, at the results. Otherwise, just tending to things and occupying your time with daily affairs and distractions will eat up so much of your life that, eventually, you may feel like you haven’t really lived at all.

I believe we are all born with an innate and lifelong sense of wonder and awe, as well as a lifelong striving to know more about ourselves. This is the gift of curiosity from the universe transmitted through our DNA. Just how accessible it is varies from person to person, but it can dull over time, like an unpolished mirror or a cloudy lake. The great gift of this time of later life is that we can reclaim that sense of wonder, awe, and curiosity with quietness and stillness now that we have fewer pressing responsibilities, such as raising children and going to work every day.

I also believe you can’t force inspiration to happen or tell it what you want it to say. Inspiration needs to visit you—openly, freely, and uncensored. You can recognize it when it does arrive and be very grateful for it. And you can make yourself a hospitable home for it to visit by leading a healthy and compassionate life and providing a sound body and mind. Inspiration also seems to visit most often when things are less cluttered and less active and where it has room to enter your consciousness unobtrusively. It sneaks in and surprises you. For me, early morning is a particularly good time for inspiration to hit. Often, it is just a hypothetical idea that doesn’t need to be acted upon. But sometimes, it is a new insight about myself or another person, a new idea for an article, an improvement to try with my health or yoga practice, or even a life-altering revelation that strikes a deep chord and makes itself a profound part of my life.

And yes, sometimes it is an unsettling truth about myself that needs attention. These too are welcome, albeit sometimes difficult, revelations. But they are a reminder that the “truth” is not always good news, and that facing a problem begins with realizing it. I have found that most of the answers to problems in my life begin inside me.

The Rhythm of the Bay and My “Organic Self”

In my life right now, where I am encamped for much of the summer, I live on a bay that is part of the Peconic water system (the Peconic River and Peconic Estuary) between the twin forks of Eastern Long Island. The rhythm of my life is intimately tied to the rhythms of this seascape and landscape. I wake up before dawn and go to sleep slightly before sunset. The local wildlife, mostly birds and waterfowl (ducks, geese, seagulls, and osprey), as well as deer, squirrels, turkey, rabbits, and the occasional fox, are a pretty constant presence. The weather, winds, and tide are also big players in this daily rhythm. But most of my life here in my own “cabin in the woods,” as all this is going on around me, is about my inner awareness and my inner life. I try to make enough quiet room for that inner life as possible. It is the source of what I write about and how I practice and support my health. It is also when I am at my best with other people, including my daughters and others who matter most to me. While I need to tend to the affairs of life and participate in social interactions, they are secondary in terms of priority here in this time and place. I would rather let a day get carried away by inspiration, writing, or a health practice like yoga or Zone 2 cardio, or even doing nothing, than spend it shopping or in trivial conversation.

What’s more, living this way puts me in touch with what I call my “organic self,” the self I was born with and that lives in my DNA. It is the part of me that 90% of the energy my body expends every day is mostly concerned with: my health and survival. It is the overall “operating system” of my being.

I believe we all have an organic self, which is usually in the background in our day-to-day lives. It is easy to lose touch with it and take it for granted until something brings it to the foreground and makes it prominent, perhaps an accident or illness or something else that forces us to stop, be still, and take stock. In my life, I choose to keep my organic self front and center, knowing nothing else is possible without it. And, frankly, life doesn’t really require much else to appreciate the simple joys of being alive. Being surrounded by nature, whether by the sea like me or the woods like Thoreau, helps you live deeply. But the real key to unlock that “I’m alive” door already exists inside of you. You just need to be quiet, be still, and listen for it.