Finding Our Still Point
READING ~ It Was Early by Mary Oliver in “Evidence” Boston: Beacon Press, 2009
It was early,
which has always been my hour
to begin looking
at the worldand of course,
even in the darkness,
to begin
listening into it,especially
under the pines
where the owl lives
and sometimes calls outas I walk by,
as he did
on this morning.
So many gifts!What do they mean?
In the marshes
where the pink light
was just arrivingthe mink
with his bristle tail
was stalking
the soft-eared mice,and in the pines
the cones were heavy,
each one
ordained to open.Sometimes I need
only to stand
wherever I am
to be blessed.Little mink, let me watch you.
Little mice, run and run.
Dear pine cone, let me hold you
as you open.
READING ~ T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton from "The Four Quartets"
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
SERMON
Friends, will you breathe with me.
Breathe In.
Breathe Out.
When I breathe in, I’ll breathe in peace.
When I breathe out, I’ll breathe out love.
Breathe In. Breathe Out.
Do you notice there is just a nanosecond between the end of breathing in and the beginning of breathing out? Another nanosecond at the end of the out breath and before the in breath.
A still point. Not in. Not out. No motion. A still point.
The still point of our breathing.
The still point of the turning world. T.S. Eliot says it this way:
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
At the still point of the world – not turning, not going toward and not moving away from - it is there - there the dance is, and in the still point, there is only the dance.
Mary Oliver’s poem “It Was Early” does not name the still point, but rather describes it. It’s that early time – no longer night and not quite day. The time when one might just begin to be able to look at the world and listen to it. In the early moment of not quite day - So many gifts!
Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed.
To be still in the moment wherever I am – and be blessed.
The still point.
“… the very act of walking is a magnificent experience, like when the infant becomes a toddler and tries out those first few steps, the elation in the child’s face is unlike any other kind of joy. Thich Naht Hanh teaches us how to walk like this for the first time again and again, to be in continuous awe of our aliveness within every step. After hearing of his passing I took immediately to foot, to walk in honor of him, to be in nature, to listen, to feel alive in the stillness, to find contentment in this basic human act of walking and to embody all that I have absorbed from his gentle and joyful guidance. Thich Naht Hanh taught us that peace is in every step no matter where we are presently. If there is sky to be seen or a child’s eyes to look through, then we are exactly somewhere mesmerizing.
Finding the still point is a practice and like any kind of practice it takes repetition, training the brain to come back again and again. This is why the breath is used as an anchoring point. It is simply something to come back to when the mind runs adrift. But it can be anything really that will steady the mind. It could be external noises like the wind blowing, birds chirping, and cars passing by. Concentrating on the orchestra of sounds around you without drifting too far off with any one solo. Or the focal point could be your total body experience when walking. Noticing with every step, the intricate pattern of motion as each foot is placed on the ground, one foot after the other. This is why I most enjoy walking meditation, aligning breath and body and nature… this is where the still point is for me.”
Words from a student of Thich Naht Hanh – known as Breathe & Be Still
(Breathe & Be Still Jan 23, 2022 Published in Mindfully Speaking)
We live in a culture that is constantly pushing us into ever faster and more frantic motion. Move on, move on. If you’re not growing, you’re dying. No time to waste.
Drivers, good Lord, drivers. We’ve been driving in Boston for the last two months and I’ll tell you, drivers can be absolutely nuts. Someone will push their way into the left lane to get one car in front of where they were and then dash back into the right lane barely in time to make the turn at the corner – exactly two seconds sooner than would have been the case if they just stayed in the right lane. But, that driver got out from behind me and in front of me and made that turn before I did. Oh well.
At the entrance to the Brigham and Women’s Hospital, all cars have a stop at the corner and must yield the right of way to every pedestrian. Most drivers observe this simple courtesy. One day, we were walking to corner and we heard a driver just lay onto the horn – one long unpleasant blast. Now the driver in front of him – we checked, it was him – was necessarily stopped. An older woman was crossing the street – slowly to be sure she had her footing. And the driver in the next car back simply could not allow this woman her time to cross before he laid on his horn. Where was he going that was more important than either this pedestrian’s safe crossing or his own life in that present moment where he was?
Where are we ever going that is more important than where we are?
Is traveling at breakneck speed to arrive two seconds, or even two hours, earlier worth the risk of an accident where we are right now?
Not just driving.
It’s life.
Keep moving or you’ll fall behind.
Well, maybe there’s another choice.
Between moving ahead and falling behind is a still point.
Between the next achievement and the next accomplishment and the next thing on our bucket list is a still point and in that still point is our life. Pushing too hard for the next thing to make our life successful can cause us to miss the beauty and the blessing of the still point that is gone just as soon as we notice it – but we are blessed when we do notice it.
Where can you find your still point - that moment when everything is in harmony and balance with all that is?
I’m not asking about THE still point. I’m asking about YOUR still point.
Now, if you’ve ever noticed this moment, you know what I’m talking about. And you know that precious as it is, it doesn’t last, you can’t hold on to it, but you can notice it. And while we can’t exactly conjure up our still point by demanding it’s presence, we can develop a practice of slowing and noticing.
Like Mary Oliver in the early part of the day … Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed.
Not to move in an endless pursuit of all that awaits us, but to be still just where we are long enough to feel the harmony of my life with all life, to share the nanosecond between the in breath and out breath of all that is.
Our still point might also be experienced through sinking into the softness of what is familiar. This is a still point of rest and comfort.
This morning, I have put into our service songs and readings that we know, that give may give us comfort because of their quiet familiarity and that lead us toward slowing down and noticing and giving us a chance for the peace that comes in our own still point.
So much of Unitarian Universalism is about the work we are called to do – creating and enjoying Beloved Community and widening the circle of Love at each moment to include all. I am completely supportive of this endeavor. I find it worthy of my energy, my spirit, my life.
And at the same time, I cannot always be reaching for the next thing that I can’t quite yet grasp. Not always. Not every moment. That kind of constant rushing forward – even in the pursuit of justice and the name of love – is simply not sustainable.
Sometimes, we need to be still.
Sometimes we need the blessing that comes with silent walking meditation - noticing the in breath and the out breath.
Sometimes we need the comfort of music or art or dance or poetry, and in resting there, we find our still point.
What is it for you? Do you know? Have you perhaps forgotten, but now you are remembering? The still point. It’s there. You can find it.
Recently, I found myself far away from my own still point.
I was too focused on what was coming next and what I need to do to be ready for what is coming next. And on it goes in a self-perpetuating spiral. And the music came to me. A song that my friend, Julie, sang at her church with her choir. From the moment I first heard it, years ago now, it has been one of those touch points, a place of comfort, a place to come back to when needing to find my still point.
The words are just what I needed
Hold me, rock me, calm and easy
Hold me, rock me, deep and wide,
Hold me, rock me, in your arms,
Oh I got a home on the other side.
Some day, gonna cross that river
Some day, gonna set out on my own,
Don't know where my journey leads,
But I'll keep on walkin' til I get me home.My life is a runnin' river
Flowin' from the mountains to the distant sea.
I've walked many hills and valleys,
But when I cross that river I'll be free."Hold Me, Rock Me" Brian Tate
Here is that song – sung by the St. John UCC Choir
(Video- Hold Me, Rock Me https://youtu.be/-h5ABA80MV4) - Oct 31, 2020
"Hold Me, Rock Me" by Brian Tate, performed by the St. John UCC Virtual Choir
There is, for me, a still point in the words and the images – hold me, rock me.
What might it be for you?
We cannot always maintain life at breakneck speed.
I daresay, we hear the voice of wisdom only when we listen for it – often in the still point of our heart and soul.
I cannot say where your still point can be found.
I hope I have given you enough suggestion and encouragement to find your still point and rest there – even for the briefest time if necessary – and be renewed and comforted and strengthened. Because … life just keeps coming at us – often fast and furious.
Blessed Be. I Love You. Amen.
You know, I often select an upbeat closing song. One that will carry us right on out of here singing and ready to meet the demands of the day and our faith.
Today, I’ve selected a quiet song (#391 Voice Still and Small) and I invite you to sing it as a prayer, as an invitation to rest in the still point, to hear the still small voice that lies deep within you.
