Still Life in the Absence of Samoas

I haven’t come here to write more than a few lines of poetry lately. I have been journaling more, and writing on the typewriter I got from Freecycle for Aviva’s 7th birthday, and also just generally enjoying less screen time. I’ve been sitting in the early mornings, for ten, maybe fifteen minutes each day. Today I walked over to a noon yoga class from work, and was so happy when I realized somewhere in the middle of the B series that I was not thinking about anything. Yoga is amazing that way, how the breath and movement simply take over without effort. And tonight, when I got home from work, I ate some food and polished off the Girl Scout cookies, then napped for an hour, my body tired in that good way from having stretched.

Returning from last week’s trip to Phoenix, the need to finally “take my practice seriously” really hit me. Practice as in tending to inner quiet. I don’t say cultivating, because I’m not sure the quiet needs cultivating; it’s just there, always, waiting for my attention. It’s more that the practices that help me touch down into stillness cultivate me, create the space for me to notice possibilities about my life that just this week came pouring in as ideas. Nothing demanding decisions or action–not yet, anyway–but just breathing through and around me while I watch and listen. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, wondering what would tip the scales. And suddenly, I just knew.

Flying back to Boston Friday, it became clear to me that if I don’t practice as if my life depended on it, I will get sick. Sitting, writing by hand, and yoga–these are like my safeguards against having a nervous breakdown and taking to my bed indefinitely. Miracle drugs. And they’re free! And legal! I’m not averse to having a drink or taking three advil for a crushing headache, nor am I philosophically opposed to antidepressants. We all know my clove-smoking ups and downs by now. Facebook is fun for a few minutes, as is scrubbing the bathtub. But really, being still and inviting silence is what I’m really craving these days.

Especially now that the Samoas are gone.

9 thoughts on “Still Life in the Absence of Samoas

  1. Shell says:

    So beautifully written – I am hearing more and more of finding the stillness – and I think it too, is my sign to practice it more. I wish I could find free Yoga – but meditation will have to do. Love the picture on this post too :) xx Enjoy the peace today


  2. Paul says:

    I stood looking out our kitchen window for a long time today. I often look out that window into our back yard. It is the perfect place to think, or not. Sometimes just to observe.
    Today however, it seemed I couldn’t/didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t quiet my mind enough to observe, and there were too many thoughts to make thinking possible.
    I am so, really tired.
    Just sharing….



Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s