This is the first of a two part series — Steadiness and Swiftness
On cultivating steadiness . . .
Lately I’ve been appreciating steadiness.
A few weeks ago, I was talking with my sister on the phone. We talk fairly often and we began this conversation by touching in on the weather and the news-that-sure-looks-bad . . . Then I blithely started asking her about the progress she was making on fixing up her apartment, her garden, and projects at work. She let me go on for a bit — then she gently but firmly stopped me in my tracks, “Lyeds, right now I’m just working on steadiness.” She took me right down with that one — humbled me beautifully.
What great pointing directions she gave me that morning! The value of steadiness has been showing up ever since.
Being steady— a steady presence, making steady progress, being a steadfast ally requires being able to manage our nervous system so that we can access our most resourceful selves. Holding steady within ourselves and on behalf of others is kind of a radical guiding star intention in a culture that privileges hastily made progress and being busy getting things done.
So I thought I’d share a few tiny-little-practices to cultivate steadiness:
Step outside for a few minutes in the morning. Locate a place near your doorway to stand and face towards the sun that rises every morning with remarkable consistency. Tune in to the rhythm of your heartbeat and the steady rising and falling of your breathing. Allow your breath to drop down towards your belly until each one is a full belly breath. Notice any impulse to rush into the day. Whisper to yourself, “There is time enough for this precious moment to be savored . . . “ Savoring, I’ve discovered has a steadying influence. (2 minutes, preferably barefoot)
Look for opportunities to be alongside big old trees whenever you can. Let them be the shoulder you can rely on, and the inspiration to attune to their steady presence.
Think of the people in your life who offer a steadying presence, furry friends and winged companions, too. Offer them some regard for that gift that often goes unnoticed.
Whenever you reach for banisters, railings, grab bars, gunwales on a boat, recognize that someone put them there to steady you. The world is full of them.
Consider the brilliance of the invention of the centerboard in a sail boat. Imagine yourself at the helm of a day-sailer in a fresh breeze— when the wind picks up heeling you over as you gain forward motion you have that centerboard to put down to stay balanced and centered. With this imaginary centerboard you can seize the opportunity that a fresh breeze offers and keep from taking on water, or tipping over altogether.
These are just suggestions. There are many ways to cultivate inner steadiness and foster steady relational fields. I’ve discovered that steadiness is achieved by showing up with a mixture of substantial-ness and the rhythms of routine. And then there is always my imaginary centerboard.
Let me know what you discover if exploring this inspires you.
And finally, a poem by Emilie Lygren
The News
Each morning we listen for what is breaking—
the sound of a thousand tragedies fills the air,
shattering that never stops,
headlines, a fleet of anchors tangled at our feet.
We watch, worried
if we turn away even for an instant,
it will all crumble the rest of the way.
Forget with me for a moment.
Take an unguarded breath.
Do it now, the world needs your attention here, too,
on the rise and fall of your shoulders,
the rustle of leaves outside the window,
the warm space between your gaze and mine.