The ART OF STILLNESS: Integrating pause into practice
“There is a presence, a silence, a stillness which is here by itself. There is no doer of it, no creator of this stillness. It is simply here in you, with you.” — Mooji
What happens when we become still? At first, it may seem like nothing, but as the seconds turn into minutes, a whole world of sensation and stories begins to emerge into awareness. For most of us, being still is an uncomfortable experience. We are confronted by the negativity of the mind and the discomfort of the body, yet when we allow ourselves to stay here, the experience can be transformational.
On a physical level, stillness in yoga or movement practices allows the deeper soft tissues to open and release, rather than just the superficial muscles. Tendons, ligaments, and fascia begin to awaken, creating a deeper release of tension or tightness that we may have been holding onto without realising. When we enter an asana, the body often contracts and resists, even in subtle ways. The mind and body work together to ‘perfect’ the pose or to ‘get it right’. When we allow ourselves to be still, we are essentially saying: “Where I am right now is enough. Where I am right now is okay.” We let breath and gravity, two naturally occurring forces, carry us deeper into the tissues and into presence, where subtle movements, imperceptible to the external eye, begin to enliven the body. As B.K.S Iyengar says: “The pose begins when we want to leave it.”
Stillness also challenges the mind. Mind says no. Mind says do better. Mind says this is boring. It is a very demanding presence, never fully satisfied. In stillness, we begin to witness the shadow and our samskaras, the unconscious beliefs and stories that guide us throughout our day. These are voices we often trust without question, yet they can be limiting and negative. By pausing long enough to notice and say no to these stories, we begin to develop an investigative attitude towards our thoughts. By investigate, I do not mean analysing or overthinking, but simply witnessing and detaching from the thinking. Writing it like this makes it sound easy, but it is not. It requires practice, commitment, and a willingness to confront the shadows within.
Contrary to what you might expect, stillness is not empty. It is incredibly alive. Every moment is rich with sensations of the body and the environment, yet we often let these simple qualities pass us by. We are conditioned to seek new experiences, pleasure, and stimulation, and I am not suggesting we reject that entirely, but what if this very moment, exactly as it is, is the most pleasurable and full experience that could possibly be had?
Stillness cannot be understood intellectually, it must be felt. So find a quiet space and begin. I recommend the support of a guide or at least a community if you find stillness particularly challenging. This could be a class you attend, a coach you work with, or guidance through talking meditations. For those local to Nottingham, I invite you to practise yoga and meditation with me and discover the aliveness available in stillness.