Becoming Stillness — on a Moving Train [Personal Narrative]
A train journey is an open opportunity to see the world from a different window in a new way. Some of my favorite and most memorable travel experiences have been clunking along the Hudson (River) Line or gliding across a Euro rail, catching glimpses of countrysides while moving towards metropolitan destinations in the US and abroad, respectively. For example, I think fondly of often boarding at Grand Central Station (New York, New York) among the hustle and bustle of daily commuters or curious, international travelers, speaking unrecognizable language, then riding “up” the Hudson River on crisp fall days towards Boston or bright summer days on the way to the Saratoga horse races— all with space to dream, time to read and quiet to think about — and through — a lot of matters in the head and on the heart.
One of life’s beautiful oxymorons is stillness in motion. For me, I find the most stillness on a meditative walk, delving in a creative practice and exploring nooks of the world via travel, particularly a moving train. Like nowhere and nothing else, on a train, I find a centeredness that is space for creative expression, peace and ideas to emerge. Moments of travel can be powerfully energizing yet calming experiences and also an escape from the daily craziness that bombards us from every direction, offering space in mind and heart to practice what my therapist calls, “transmutation,” or process of acceptance and change.
The world has become so louuuudd. And certainly in the case of most of our contemporary, consumer-based society and one perpetually distracted with/by social media channels, stillness is a prophetic act, defying that which demands that we move quickly and move constantly. In more simple words, to be plugged in 24/7. Pausing and being still can almost be a countercultural act! But space and stillness offers creative lassitude that makes for renewal of mind and body. We must, each one of us, find our own time and develop our own particular art of being quiet, whether it be the hum of the night, the hush of the morning — or for me, a train journey in the unknown.
As Charles Lattimore Howard writes in Pond River Ocean Rain, “Inaction sometimes is the greatest action we can take. Stillness is sometimes the most important move we can make.” I have come to believe, understand and fully experience that only from that space of stillness can you create your best work thus your best life. It is also where you find and recognize your power. Yet sometimes the waves of life rage so incessantly that it is difficult to see or feel and even find truth or direction. As Oprah writes, “It proves once again that Glinda the Good Witch was right: ‘You've always had the power.’ You just have to be still to find it. And when you do, you're on the way to finding the fullest expression of you.’” For all of us, be patient in practicing stillness. And meanwhile, wander far, ride long, and let the tracks lead you to adventure — and perhaps home to self.
