Silence and Solitude

I left yoga, waited on a bus and immediately pulled out my cell phone after finding a seat on a bench with another guy. I felt guilty, I mean, I had just left yoga after all- and I should be continent to continue the stillness and contemplation, but I texted and emailed nonetheless. The guy beside me got off the bus and another guy sat down.

We rode up First Avenue, five to ten blocks, and my eyes wondered. I was completely taken aback when I noticed my picture on the screen of the guy’s phone next to me. There was my face looking back at me. For 3-4 seconds I seriously wondered if I was seeing things, or on one of those candid camera shows. Then I had that terrible feeling that perhaps this guy had just taken my picture.

I slowly turned my head seeing his hands, arms, dark jacket, scruffy beard, face.

It was Chris.

Initially we laughed and my heart even raced a little as I had anticipated staring into the eyes of some stranger and not my husband. But ,more than that I was embarrassed. Embarrassed for not even knowing the closeness of my own husband and for wondering what else I missed out on- on a daily basis.

When I have my ear buds in. When I’m racing to the train. When I’m so selfish all I can do is think about what I have on my agenda for the day.

That week I started utilizing the Daily Office three times a day. That is to Stop, maybe meditate on a scripture, maybe pray, maybe just sit in silence. At first I thought the idea of sitting in silence for 2-3 minutes was silly and unnecessary. But it is not. It causes me to refocus. It makes me center on Christ. I am stuck there- it’s just me and God and I have to be honest. When I take the time to STOP I am continuously conscious of God’s presence.

And because of this I listen better, I don’t over analyze, I’m not forever critical or anticipating how someone will react or what they will say before they even say it. I think these little pockets of solitude and stillness remind me that all I am and everything I do is to point to the Greatness of God. Not the Greatness of Stefani.

I am becoming a non-anxious presence, someone who doesn’t have to bow down and worship at the altar of business. Being busy or just acting like I’m busy does not make me important. For someone like me - who goes and does and fills up my calendar from 8AM-8PM, a city like New York will quickly suck the life out of you. New York loves to make you run, loves to make you feel late, unorganized and scatterbrained even though you are not. It will demand more and more until you have nothing left to give.

Finding the time to stop is like finding the money in your budget cheerfully give. You wonder how you will be able to literally make it if you give- of your money or your time, but afterward you wonder how you lived before implementing these practices.

Not stopping, and not being still for years has manifest itself physically: in headaches, stomach issues and as my chiropractor often tells me, “You are trying to carry the weigh of the world on your shoulders.”

Last Saturday I went for a jog in Central Park. It was absolutely gorgeous, life giving- total “me” time. The sun was shining, the trees were glowing in oranges and yellows, all children seemed adorably cute, I even briefly considered buying a dog- just so I could have one to jog with. AND I truly thought- Why would I ever want to leave this city? It was one of those kind of Park experiences. When I got home I made brunch, did some laundry and tidied up around the apartment. Around 3:00 Chris says to me, “You have not stopped all day long.”

To which I reply, “I don’t need to stop. I haven’t done anything. I’ve jogged, I’ve cooked, cleaned a bit- these are things FOR me. They are things I enjoy. I’ve been doing mindless activity all day- I don’t need to be still.”

Then he told me, “The point of stopping and spending time in silence is not to be mindless it is so that you can be mindful. It is so that your mind can be at a place where it can receive. You have it backwards. Silence and Solitude is not about resting the mind- it’s about using the mind.”

Serendipity

At my previous job in Texas, during my previous life in Texas, I worked as District Director of a nonprofit. About once a week myself, and all the other DD's would receive an email from our Regional Coordinator titled: Serendipity. Which is a little much, right? Once a week? Once a week you have so many ramblings and topics to discuss that you can't even group them all into one category? Even so, title the email Deadlines or To Do List or heck, call it that weekly email from Jim cause that is really what it was. Serendipity... Ah, it was so annoying. But because it is not a word I overuse, I'm using it today. I am calling this Serendipity (not to be confused with the overpriced, always booked restaurant targeted to tweens one block from our church on 60th Street) today, because it's been a week and I have a few things I'd like to share:

1. I washed my husbands iPod. How does one wash an iPod you might ask. Well, I'll tell you. Trying to multitask. Doing to much. Not paying attention due to not being truly present. See, I came home from a run in Central Park on Saturday, and before I got into the shower threw my running gear straight in the washer. (Oh yeah, we have a washing machine in our apartment...) After showering, I filled the wash with towels and other warm water items and presto- one clean iPod. I had safely zipped my Metrocard, Debit Card, a $20 bill and the iPod in the compartment on the back of my running shirt. Only after the final spin cycle did I realize, "Oh, I think I just washed my Metrocard and cash." Still a little clueless, when I unzipped the pocket I though I had just washed the ear buds. Then when I pulled the white cords out of the damp clothing heap I saw the little silver shuffle attached. My heart sank. But 24 hours in a sunny windowsill later, it works, so... that is that. It seems that I do these sorts of things more and more.

2. This summer my sister and I stumbled upon this market in Korea town. My sister knows Chinese foods & weird exotic things. She's tried to make her own tofu before- she is for real, a diehard. Plus, a dear college friend of hers was from Taiwan and she's traveled to China. What I'm trying to say is that upon her lead we ventured into this place. And I loved it. She and I bought lots of yummy things, ate them together in Herald Square and had plenty left over. So, Monday of this week, I found myself in the neighborhood again and ventured in. For $3.49 I got a "lunch box" of sorts with boiled spinach, rice noodles, kimchi, and ... anchovies that looked at me with their little fishy eyeballs.

I'm really NOT a picky eater. I mean I am a food snob and my heart breaks when I see mothers pushing around toddlers in Mclaren strollers who are drinking Yoohoo's and eating Pop-Tarts, and I do hate that we have a become a society that lives on processed foods and pantry items- BUT things don't gross me out- like Lima beans, beats, liver or anchovies. It just bothered me a little having to deal with the eyeballs because I do like to look at my food before I put it in my mouth, and I just couldn't.

All of this to say, after paying for my lunch I stood on the sidewalk and broke out my chopsticks. Standing there shoveling stinky cabbage into my mouth an older Asian man made eye contact with me. I immediately knew, because of the maps and fanny packs, that the group of five he was in were tourists. They stopped to peer in the widows of the grocery store before going in. But I liked the look he gave me. I liked the way his face lit up when he saw me standing, in a block of Korean shops, eating anchovies with chopsticks.

3. My husband's pepper plant has produced peppers! Did I tell you he had a pepper plant? Did I tell you that this pepper plant sprung up from simply dumping red pepper flakes- compliments of our neighborhood pizza shop- into a planter? Seriously. It was just an "experiment". And it worked.

4. Chris brought me a gift last night. After a full day's work and then parent teacher conferences he arrived home at 8:00pm with a pink Victoria's Secret bag. Three words: push-up bra, disturbingly inappropriate (okay, four words)

5. This morning on my way to work I saw a bird on the sidewalk hopping around one one leg. He only had one leg, and I thought, "How sad." Then, as I continued across First Avenue on my way to the subway I thought, "Really, that is not sad at all. He may only have one foot, but he was created to fly." So really, he'll be okay.

Stop

I think I've actually slowed down enough (although I feel like I have a long, long way to go) that I'm actually getting it. Although it may be just a tiny bit. I've been turning inward for peace- seeking what God has instilled inside of me, instead of looking for an answer to a problem, knowing all the while there is no solution to life - that it is the ultimate mystery.

I've always though that by doing things and staying busy and accomplishing everything I do in ultra-fast, super-quick, "girl-who-can-do-it-all" mode that I wouldn't miss anything in life. That if I read quickly I could read more books- even though I somehow missed about 50% of what I was in the middle of reading- in order to rush to the next book to read.

Even if have two pots on the stove, one dish in the oven and another stainless steel mixing bowl in my hands - that it may turn out horribly, if you know what I mean. Multitasking means you are missing the experience of just doing that one thing your meant to be doing. More mistakes are made. In the trying to fit All This Life into my schedule, I become the Tasmanian Devil Whirlwind that knocks down anything in my path and blow right over people if need be- because they are slower, or more methodical, or less energetic. (Energy right? Not stress driven.) This city really compliments my desire to be fast paced, which makes slowing down that much harder.

What am I saying? I find that this amped up version of myself is not all that desirable of a person to be around. For example, I got on the bus last Monday night after yoga and immediately pulled out my cell phone. I Facebooked, I emailed, I texted. Glancing to my right, I noticed my very own picture on the screen of the phone belonging to the guy sitting beside me. For three very long seconds I was concerned- wow, am being followed by some low budget reality TV program? That guy was my husband, who had been sitting right beside me for blocks. I was that Not Present.

I'm hardly ever mentally still. In the elevator I'm taking my coat off. On the bus I'm emailing. On the train I'm making my shopping list. At home I am chronically tidying, doing chores, rearranging , etc. etc. And I'm not living, I'm just busying.

So, I've been working on it. On listening during conversations and being aware of what people are really saying to me. I've been trying to see people as "thou's" instead of "it's" as we are learning in our book study. This means that I realize we are all made in God's image & we are all valuable. So often we use people to get what we want and call it networking. Or, we disregard people because of there social class, different opinions or lack of education. Or maybe they really are just someone who is really, really hard to love. Someone difficult to converse with, who is flat out mean, never smiles and is really quite very lonely.

What do I fear most about being still? I am afraid I will get fat and lazy and will have to move back to Texas and live in a trailer. To me inactivity, thoughtlessness, and still are synonyms. Honestly, if I'm still I have to think and I don't want to deal with those things that I know will rise to the top. And what if God tells me something really difficult. Then what? But so far, it hasn't been bad at all. It's actually been really nice & I feel like I'm existing on an entirely new plane. I'm experiencing life within life.

Just a Little Encouragement

First the fastest ladies in the world speed up First Avenue

Followed by NYPD escorts

Then the TV camera & crew truck

Then (about fifteen minutes later) the fastest men in the world running five-minute miles
Still.
At mile eighteen.

The pack of men has not remained as tight as the women.

And here is Meb, who won last years race falling way, way behind.

Just the endless sea of 45,000 runners from our rooftop.

Some of the Marathon Party attendees

I told my choir director that I would not be at church Sunday, November 7th to sing because of the marathon. So others assumed that I might be running. "No, I am not running." Oh, do you know someone who is running? "Well, I am friends with a handful of people that are running, but really I am just a fan of runners in general."

I realized why I love Marathon Sunday in NYC - it is the ultimate encouragement day. It really is. And me, being an encourager, a supporter, an edifier, a writer of greeting cards and giver of hugs, LOVE it when I see other people encouraging one another. I could have stood out there and clapped and shouted for hours. I really could have, and would have, if I didn't have to be somewhere at 3:00 Sunday afternoon.

And if you're like me and can't get enough. Watch this video.

Speechless

Here's where I am. I've been trying to be still more to listen more and it's really hard. I think we all want to talk and share and feel, not only wanted and understood, but well, normal. Just to have someone nod their head and "get" it.

Personally, I'm really trying hard to do more of the nodding and sitting and waiting than just spewing words vomitous at people.

This morning I read that in order for us to be able to listen and engage with those around us sincerely then we have to be spending time in the stillness listening to God. I have to spend time in silence and solitude in order to love others well, in order to listen well. Silence, solitude and stillness are where God speaks to us. They are pivotal to the Christian life. Stopping- even weekly for a Sabbath- is required to maintain any sort of joy and peace in life. God commanded us to do it, so why does it go against all that I feel is right? Why does our Western culture applaud the go-Go-GOing and "Martha Stewart-ness"?

In the hiccups, in the gasping for air, in the small pause at the top of the breath- that is where He waits for us. Often when I find myself there, I don't know what to do with the quiet. I long for rest but when given the opportunity I usually would rather fill my time with shredding last years bank statements and going through Chris's white undershirts, finding which ones can now move to the "get rid of" or "dust rag" pile.

Loving others well is not easy. There are about 25 people that I want to love well. Everyone else- I often push aside, don't make time for, or just nod my head in agreement of their rambling nonsense (that I don't agree with) just to get them to shut up. Loving well means speaking truth. Loving well means there will be conflict. Loving well means I listen to you when share your story and I don't interrupt. And I listen with clarity and understanding and ears that don't think they know what they will hear next.

Here's where I am. I haven't written this month. Minus about a page where I tried to get the ball rolling with random thoughts and starts and blimps of the week prior.

I know there is something in me boiling, something that will come to fruition. I just have to keep these fingers on the keyboard. Being still. Listening for words and dialogs and descriptions still to come.

Seeing the other side

Today marks the first day of National novel writing month. And if you recall, in 2008 I wrote 50,000 words during the month of November. I'm not sure if that is what I am supposed to do this November, but I do know this:

I need to write more. On the things that pudder around within me alot of the time.

I need to give it 110% during the month of November & then spend December putting it all together- rearranging the mosaic. Making the stories into The Story.

...

All this to say: as much as I will be writing more- I may not be writing more on here. You may see less of me. Or not- I'm not really sure how all of this will play out. But I do know that I need to check Facebook less, G-chat less, talk to my co-worker less (even though she's one of my dearest friends) and just DO IT ALREADY!!! Because I do have time to write, not a whole heck of alot in between paper jams, scanning, and answering phones. But I do waste a lot of time. Writing needs to be my work.

It's always worth it on the other side.