How to Find Stillness in a Culture that Tells you to Do More

Awhile back I read an article from the New Yorker called No Time by Elizabeth Kolbert. The article takes an in-depth look at how Americans use their time, suggesting a growing addiction to busyness.  Americans, it seems, feel the need to use up every single minute of their time, without allowing much space in the day for rest.  And, worse than that, people tend to brag about how busy we are, as if all this frenetic over-scheduling gives us a sense of purpose.  We almost feel ashamed of our leisure time, as if we're not important enough without a giant list of activities on our calenders.    What is going on with Americans, and how do we stop this?  This growing trend in busyness is evident by looking through past Christmas letters and cards:


"Researcher, Ann Burnett, has collected five decades’ worth of holiday letters and found that they’ve come to dwell less and less on the blessings of the season and more and more on how jam-packed the previous year has been. Based on this archive, Burnett has concluded that keeping up with the Joneses now means trying to outschedule them."

How sad.  For the past 50 years, Americans have been trading in their precious time of quiet reflection for an over-stuffed calender.  But filling every minute of our lives with activity is not how we're meant to live.  We need stillness. We need true rest.  And I don't mean mindlessly scrolling through emails or binge-watching the latest season on Netflix (although I do love me some Netflix!), but real rest.  Our minds can't keep up this exhausting pace without losing something--like our health, personal development and spiritual growth.  Kolbert addresses the negative effects of this mental preoccupation:


"A lawyer playing with his kids is technically at leisure, but if all the while he’s checking his phone for texts from the office he may feel that he hasn’t had any time off. Schulte terms this the “mental tape-loop phenomenon,” and she argues that it’s sapping our precious energies, so that we can’t even “decide what to think about, worrying about home stuff at work and work stuff at home.'”

So, even when we have time off, we still feel the need to occupy our brains in an energy-reducing way.  But it gets even worse.  This preoccupation with busyness has a snowball effect, as it's fed by an emphasis on consumerism:


"Instead of quitting early, they [Americans] find new things to need." Europeans will further reduce their working hours and become even more skilled at taking time off, while Americans, having become such masterful consumers, will continue to work long hours to buy more stuff."

So, the catch-22 is that more the stuff we convince ourselves we need to enjoy our days off, the less actual leisure time we end up getting, since we need to work more in order to buy more. And, in the end, most of this stuff just ends up weighing us down, and keeping us from what truly fulfills.  Another problem with all of this busyness is that our identities become enmeshed with our work lives.  Our sense of purpose is then based on the quantity and type of work we do:


Work may not set us free, but it lends meaning to our days, and without it we’d be lost.


I think there's a false belief in America, that those who are wealthy, have the most leisure time.  If we close our eyes, it's not hard to imagine the stereotypical sunlit stroll through a golf course and luxurious beach vacations.  But this is often not the reality for those who are well off.  Kolbert states that: "the disproportionately compensated have a disproportionate motive to keep on working. (taking a day off when you're rich means losing a TON of money versus just a few bucks for someone who is poor)."

So, what is the way out of this mess?  How do we effectively reclaim our leisure time and get the real rest we need?  I think there are two simple things we can do to help remedy the addiction to doing:


1) Realize that "needing more stuff" is a myth (The old adage that money does not buy happiness is just as true today as ever!)



2) Make an effort to be truly present and schedule white space into your day


There's a simple exercise you can do to assess what really brings you joy. Jot down a list of some of your best memories--the times when you were most happy.  When you are done, look at your list and see how many of those memories involved a lot of expensive "stuff", or whether they were things you could do for very little money.  Now look to see if the time was a fast-paced jam-packed day, or whether time time felt slow.  Very often some of our best memories are times spent with loved ones in very simple ways--going for walks with Grandma or picnics at the lake.  Nothing rushed, nothing extravagant.  No deadlines looming or texts and emails to send.  Just time lived slowly and lived well.  Time cherished with loved ones.

I encourage you to examine the pace and activity level of your life.  Is there a way to reclaim more leisure time and slow the pace down a bit?  Do you agree with Kolbert's article?  I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Peace Like a River

With the arrival of the new year, many of us take stock of our lives--where we're at, where we're headed, what we wish to accomplish in the year to come.  While I've never been a huge "resolution" person, in more recent years I've become more intentional about the progress I wish to make in the coming year. By being around goal-oriented friends and reading books on the subject, goal-making has rubbed off on me a bit!  So, while I'm still reluctant to adopt the more formal (and intimidating!) "list" approach to resolutions, I do love the practice of choosing a one-word goal.


Having a one word goal helps give me focus during the day-to-day routines of life.  It's a gentle reminder, when I feel like I'm stumbling and overwhelmed, to just slow down and see the bigger picture. My one word becomes a part of me, changing me forever.  One of the really neat things that has happened ever since adopting this practice, is that I have begun to see the inter-connection between my words from year to year.  As I worked on trust a couple of years ago, I discovered how it was related to my previous goal of "courage."  The connection makes sense, really, since spiritual goals never really exist in isolation.  I've been marveling at how my words have fit together year by year, like puzzle pieces.

A beautiful necklace my (awesome!) sister made for me for Christmas.

This year, the word I've chosen is peace.  Sometime last Fall I started thinking about what my new word would be.  One of the words that initially came to mind was "stillness."  As I began to think and read about stillness, it led me to the word peace, which felt just perfect.  While I spent 2014 trying to live more fully in the present, I felt like I wasn't allowing enough time to just be at peace.  My days are often filled with near-constant interruptions, noise and busyness (homeschooling 4 kids can have that effect!).  But I need peace in order to steady myself.  And one of the amazing things about peace is that it can still exist in times of chaos, because it's not dependent upon the environment; it's something that dwells within us.

Once I decided on peace as my word for 2015 I wanted to start by seeing how the dictionary defines it. The definitions were a great place to begin:

Peace: Freedom from disturbance; quiet tranquility.  A state of security.  Freedom from oppressive thoughts or emotions.  A state of calmness. 

I loved thinking about peace as a type of "freedom."  How true that being held captive--by our surroundings, or thoughts and fears--is what destroys our peace. After pondering this definition I wanted to see what scripture had to say on the matter of peace:


"'Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken, nor my covenant of peace be removed' says the Lord." --Isaiah 54:10


"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands." --Isaiah 55:12


"I have told you these things, so that in me, you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world." --John 16:33


"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the holy spirit." --Rom. 15:13


"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." --Phil. 4:6-7



But the one that spoke to me the loudest was this verse that helped bring me comfort through my miscarriages:

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."  --John 14:27

As I read all of these verses, so many amazing things kept popping out at me...most of all the connection between peace and hope, trust, thanksgiving and joy.  Before I had read the scripture verses on peace, I hadn't given a ton of thought to how closely related all of these things are.  But it started to dawn on me, that when we have give thanks, we can trust more deeply, which fills us with hope, spilling over into joy...all of these things working together toward peace.  So, in a sense, peace is the gateway to joy!  Amazing!

I'm looking forward to seeing where my one word will take me this year.  So far, I've been setting aside time each day to read and think about peace.  I've been trying my best to put aside the Martha-esque to-dos and worries, to just be still.  One of the things I've enjoyed playing around with lately is Zentangle.  Concentrating on the repetitive strokes and letting go of perfection while I do it is a great way to bring calm and a feeling of peacefulness.  My good friend introduced me to it about a month ago, and I've been loving it ever since! 

I've also resolved to write in my gratitude journal every. single. day.  While I've somewhat kept up kept up on jotting things down in my journal, I had fallen out of the practice of writing in it daily.  So, now I begin each morning jotting down my eucharisteo.  

I've also put into practice, during my morning prayer time, a few minutes to just be quiet and let God speak.  I tend to do a lot of "talking" to God when I pray, and sometimes I forget to just listen.   


I can't wait to see what the year ahead will bring!


Do you choose a one word goal for the year?  I'd love to hear yours.  Do you make a list of resolutions?  Feel free to share in the comments!

Slow and Steady Wins the Race

 It was a Monday morning (Mondays. I know.) and I was feeling particularly unsteady, dashing around trying to catch up on things that had fallen behind.  Megan had wet her bed. There were party trays to put away two weeks after the party.  Mount laundry towered high yet again, despite my efforts to keep up.  Several reminders later, Adam continued forgetting his manners at the breakfast table.  While schooling the kids (late start, no less) Luke wrote backwards Ps, an old habit popping in like an unwelcome guest.  Yes, it was just one of those days.  So, I did what I often do in response to those days; I tried to fix it. In a tornado of manic energy, swirling round and round I tried to the fix the Ps, fix the manners, fix the bedding, the party platters, mount laundry...fix, fix, fix. Trying to make all clean and tidy, as if long-term projects could be fixed in mere minutes, and Rome could be built in a day.  But a tornado leaves just one thing in its wake--utter destruction.  I felt it in my heart and worse yet, could see it reflected in the eyes of the kids: I had failed.  Instead of restoring peace and order, my whirlwind of "fixing" had left me completely spent and barren...like a tree bearing no fruit.

Sitting down, wallowing in my own defeat,  I then remembered the prayer I had read earlier that morning:

Divine Teacher, I can be rather picky sometimes, setting up the circumstances and paramenters within which I think you must work.  I can be so self-obsessed, seeing myself as central to all, ignoring what you are doing, slowly and patiently, in this world of human hearts and lives.  The fruits of your spirit are: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.  Today I will live these in gratitude.  Help me be patient with myself and with others when we seem to bear no fruit.  I trust that you are with us and know how to bring about growth in each one.  Amen.  --Ordinary Grace

This.  This is what I had been doing all morning--ignoring God, relying on myself to try and DoItAllRightThisMoment, sprinting like a flailing fool toward the proverbial finish line. Like the classic story The Tortoise and the Hare, I had read to the kids a few weeks back.  The tale that leaves me feeling like a big fat hypocrite, knowing full well that I'm that hare.  But God cares nothing for the fruitless business of hustle and bustle, of hurry and worry and lack of endurance. In His infinite wisdom, He moves slowly, patiently, steadily plodding along in our hearts, working in mysterious ways.  Ever-present, never failing, God is the tortoise walking inside each of us.
 

And when I feel like that barren tree, picked clean with leaves all shriveled brown on the ground, I know that He is there, working within me, teaching in slow and steady whispers.

 Slow and steady wins the race.

Though I cannot see the finish line, nor when and how the race will end, I can rest in the knowledge that He is here, beating out a path of growth within.  Revealing in bits and pieces His wisdom, alleviating the need to sprint and scurry and spin.  We can rest in Him.  And on the days I feel all wrong, like a backwards P in child's scrawl,  I know that slowly, steadily, He is growing me.  Though the growth is often too slow to see, that Wise Tortoise goes right on walking, performing micro-miracles, day by day, within each of us. It's all just a matter of trust, my word for 2013.


I trust that you are with us, and know how to bring about growth in each one. Amen.


So maybe there's hope for this harried hare, after all?  I continue to trust He will keep on plodding along in my heart, encouraging me to, one day, reach victory.

 I am confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

Phil. 1:6 




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Imperfect Prose

Peace on Earth

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With Christmas in our midst, I wanted to take a moment to reflect on the joy of the reason for this season of light and love: the birth of Jesus. In His miraculous birth, there are so many things to learn from, to take away. One of the things that has resonated within my heart this year is, quite simply, peace. In the gospel of the St. Luke it is written:

"And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel praising God and saying: "Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests."
--Luke 2:11, 13-14

This is one of those passages that's so well known, it's almost easy to skip over, as we turn our thoughts to more prominent aspects of the birth story. Yet this single statement is so incredibly important; the Lord comes to Earth to bring peace. I realize I'm certainly not the first one to reflect on the importance of peace during the Christmas season. It's a key component to say the least, one that Christians and non-Christians alike can agree on and desire. Knowing this is one thing, but what can we do to help cultivate Christmas peace in our lives? And how might we hope to leave a lasting impact on the world in our own unique way? What exactly does this mean?


One of the resources I've been reading throughout Advent is Daily Reflections for Advent and Christmas. In this little book Morneau sheds some light quite beautifully on the subject of peace as he states:


Peace is not just the absence of strife but the presence of compassion and forgiveness. Peace is not fearful passivity but loving perseverance to reconcile and heal. Peace is not enforced by one's power but celebrated in mutual respect and generosity. Peace is not the province of the powerful but the responsibility of all "men and women of goodwill." Peace exalts humility, poverty, simplicity, service. The economy of peace is built on justice for all and the dignity of the most vulnerable.


I just loved the application of peace in this passage. In these few sentences we have a road map of things we can actually do as "men and women of goodwill." We can live out peace through acts of service. We can be peacemakers through our respect, our generosity, through simple and humble living. By living life with a spirit of forgiveness and compassion we are committing acts of peace.

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Morneau also points out that peace is not passive, but rather quite proactive. Sometimes we might think of peace-makers as being somewhat...wimpy or soft. But embodying peace is not cowering in fear or bowing down. It requires inner strength and perseverance. To be an effective peace-maker we must endure as we strive for justice and raise up the vulnerable. Indeed, peace-making is not for the faint of heart. Morneau points out something else very important--being a peace-maker is not only reserved for people in positions of power, but is the responsibility of us all. Each and every one of us is called to strive for peace. It's what God requires of us as Christians. It's what we're called to do on earth.


So as we light our candles, sing songs of joy and partake in the festivities of this beautiful season, let's all do our part to be peacemakers. Live out generosity and kindness. Let your heart swell with forgiveness and gratitude. Serve others in need. Fight for justice. And pray to Jesus, The Prince of Peace, that He may ignite your heart and kindle a real and present desire for peace on Earth.

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