The Quiet Stillness of the Soul

She walks alone...
in the darkest of night, the rising fog swirls at her feet
as the sun peers through the clouds,
casting shadows along the path before her. 

There are times, many times in my life, where I have felt a deep peace, a stillness and quietness in my soul that seemed to pervade all the noise of the environment around me and overtake it. It totally fills my inner self with a great fullness; unlike the fullness of eating a large meal or a filling and overflowing of joy that comes after a family gathering, no, it is not like those at all. It seems that things like this are not usual subjects of conversation or interrogation. It is as though it only exists in the person who experiences it and cannot be brought out in the land of the living as other more common experiences can be.






Maybe the experience of deep inner peace is not so common. The quietness and stillness of the soul is a rare, perhaps even matchless or incomparable to any other human experience and emotional reality. Perhaps this stillness is reserved and even preserved for those who will give it the time and space that it needs to take residence. It is for and only seen by the patient soul; the one who is willing to set aside all the cares of the world and experience this deep inner knowing of peace.

I remember hearing both children as I was growing up and young women as I grew into adulthood complain of loneliness. I never really understood what loneliness was or why it was so aberrantly avoided and even shunned by people who just did not have someone to talk to for a moment. I have had to see that the term loneliness is really preferring to be with others who are not available “leaving us only to ourselves” and I could never understand how that is such a bad thing. How could anyone be lonely if they had themselves to entertain and hold company with? I just don't understand why anyone would not prefer being alone to having to spend time with a boorish uneducated and unimaginative “friend”. Why would I want to be with others when my mind would entertain me with the history and imagination of the ages instead? Sir Edward Dyer wrote a poem called “My mind to me a kingdom is”; the most profound and most celebratory statement for the concept and practice of “aloneness” that I have ever found. I guess that is what being a writer and “dreamer of dreams” is all about. How could I ever get bored or lonely when I have so much going on inside me?

Loneliness and being alone are two separate ideologies. Loneliness must imply a wanting for a specific person; to be in their presence and to experience their being and feeling a deep yearning to be with someone who is not able to be with us for whatever reason. We feel “lonely” for them. We yearn to be with them and in being with them, perhaps we are finding a part of ourselves or even communing with ourselves in the only way that we have learned how up to this point in our lives. I would imagine that loneliness under this definition would bring about great sadness and longing for another. What bothers me most about this concept is that it totally obliterates the sufficiency of the self; the enjoyment of our own uniqueness and the unequivocal imagination of having a real relationship with our “selves”. It is almost “self-denial” in its greatest or lowest form. This is what truly saddens me. Being alone on the other hand may imply the desire to spend time alone; solitude and introspective moments of deep peace and soul searching. Being alone acknowledges the separateness that makes each and every one of us human and special. Being alone affirms me as an individual and as a unique and wonderfully creative and productive person who has many heartfelt wishes and desires and hopes for my life and those whom I love; why would I NOT want to be alone?

When I think of quietness I think of a very undisturbed night where the breeze is tranquil or nonexistent. The birds and crickets are even asleep. They are miraculously stilled and hushed as if a blanket has been spread and the earth is giving vigil to the night. The quietness can be deafening. It is an eerie emptiness that transcends and exceeds our imaginative process of being possible. The quietness almost hurts our ears in its loudness of its presence where some would say that the lack of presence is what causes the quietness; I contend that the quietness overtakes the confusion and noise. 

When I think of stillness I can see a very serene pond or body of water that clearly and gently reflects the sky and all that is around it almost mirror like mockery that is a surreal picture of what does not exist. A paradox. Stillness is the absence of movement. Stillness of a body of water can reflect and reveal so much around it. It makes me wonder if a “still spirit” can do the same thing. Can a person with a “still and quiet spirit” reflect the world off of themselves for others to see? Just as “still waters run deep”, can a “still spirit” be deep with empowering quietness? There is something about the stillness and quietness that demands our respect and attention. Even louder than a scream for help, the stillness of the wind or water commands total honor. We are “stilled” in our tracks and must stop what we are doing and thinking in order to pay obeisance to the quietness; the stillness and the power of control whether it is revealed to us outwardly in nature or less obviously, in the heart of man.

There is much to say about the illusive qualities of quietness and stillness of the soul; but one only has to stop and listen; honor and respect the deep paradoxical full void of the self in its richest and most wonderful expression of life.