Don’t tell me to be calm
Rev. Lynn Unger (from the poem Breathe)
when there are so many reasons
to be angry…
I didn’t say to be calm, said the wind,
I said to breathe.
We’re going to need a lot of air
to make this hurricane together.
Often when stillness weaves its way into our discussions, it’s framed as a retreat strategy. A balm from the frantic and frequently wounding world. But as wise ones like Rev. Unger remind us, that’s not quite right. It’s less like a locked room that keeps all the enemies out and more like an oxygen mask that brings us back to life, that fills us with power. Stillness doesn’t simply slow our breath and energy; it fills us with it.
So friends, stillness…allows us to perceive that which is truly precious. And in doing so, it calls us back to our humanity.
When we pause and find that sacred point of balance, that which is precious in life lights up as if in neon. The blur that usually dominates our attention fades to gray and we are able to notice that which truly deserves our focus. Our care. Our commitment. Our love.