Chapter 12.2: Five Sagely Practices to Restore Balance to Life, Part II: Stillness

 Racing off at a wild gallop in pursuit of a hunt 

makes peoples’ hearts and minds go wild.

In ancient China, there were few activities as exhilarating as the thrill of the hunt.  There is the sensation of the wind in your face, the feel of the horse running at a full gallop, the element of danger and uncertainty, and the adrenaline coursing through your veins.  Today, the activities may be slightly different, but we are still chasing that same feeling.  From bungee jumping to skydiving, cliff jumping to paragliding, squirrel suiting to free solo climbing, we spend more time and resources “thrill seeking” than any people ever have in the history of the world.  Most of us have a little “adrenaline junkie” inside us somewhere.   Yet, there is inherent risk in these activities and sometimes we push ourselves a little too far, we cross the line, take unnecessary risks, and make poor decisions, and even jeopardize our lives. 

When I was a teenager, I once went off to solo free climb a mountain.  It was before the days of cell phones and the internet (I’ve just dated myself :o ) and I didn’t tell anyone where I was going or when I would be back.  Full of bravado and youthful angst, I set out to conquer my mountain.  It was exhilarating at first but as the climb wore on and I wore out things changed.  I had started too late in the day and as the last waning rays of sunlight disappeared into the growing darkness I was stuck about a third of the way from the top.  My arms were spent, my legs were spent, my bravado was spent.  I couldn’t see my way to continue my climb up and certainly couldn’t down climb.  There in the stillness and quietude of that cliff face, I came face-to-face, as it were, with my own thoughts and feelings. I curled up on about a 12” ledge, wondering if I’d throw myself to my death if I fell asleep.  I wondered if anyone would be able to find me if I plummeted to my doom.  I wondered if anyone would miss me.  As I reflected on the chain of events that had led me to that place in that moment I started thinking beyond myself. I thought of my mother – of how many sleepless nights she would spend crying, wondering what had happened to me.  I wondered how many nights my dad would spend driving around trying to find me, not even having a clue where to begin looking.  I thought of how my dear grandmother would feel, when I didn't show up at her house for our weekend visit.  An image of my unflattering high school photo printed on a milk jug with the label "missing" flashed before my bloodshot eyes.  In that moment, I realized that I had been too excessive, too selfish, and too inconsiderate.  I realized that there were things that were "missing" from my life -- relationships and opportunities and that if I died there, I would "missing" from the lives of people I didn't even know yet (now as reflect back on that experience decades later, I couldn't have even imagined at that time the depth of what I would have missed – my future family and my children most especially).  I vowed that if I somehow made it off that cliff face, I’d try and do better.  That thought bounced around in my brain as I finally succumbed to fatigue and fell asleep.  A few hours later, I was gently awakened by a bright light shining in my eyes.  The largest full moon I've ever seen was rising across from me.  It illuminated the way up clearer than daylight.  Invigorated with restored hope and optimism, I finished my climb in the moonlight and returned home.  Though I have climbed countless peaks on multiple continents since, that was the last time I free solo climbed without telling anyone exactly where I was going and when I’d return.  Sometimes excessive thrill seeking can make us a bit crazy, reckless, and even wild.

So, the fourth sagely practice to restore balance and moderation is to take time out of our thrill seeking and adventuring to practice the art of stillness and quietude.  Most of us don’t ever allow ourselves enough quiet time to know what we are thinking or feeling when we don’t have anything to think or feel.  We fill our days with work, responsibilities, and entertainment and don’t give ourselves any space to just be.  Unplug.  Meditate.  Breathe.  Step outside and look around.  Watch the clouds drift by.  Go to a park.  Surround yourself by nature and just spend some time listening.  Practice mindfulness.  Observe.  Connect.  If we haven’t spent any time with ourselves, be patient, kind, and gracious.  Don’t judge what we find there or the thoughts or feelings that arise.  Just be. ~ DCB