Gunilla Norris on Silence

Her words continue to move me. Not to more action, nor to more hurriedness. Nor to more of more. Not to the external.

But rather, her words move me to the more of what is within. To quiet. To still. To insight and awareness that is generally there, just not accessible through the standard noise and speed of contemporary lifestyle.

Thank you Gunilla Norris. I’m glad for the reminder. As always, with self, or with group.

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If we can simply learn to follow our breath
in a steady way — attending to the inhalation
and the exhalation until we feel that we are no longer
breathing, but are being breathed
— we have grown in practice.

The point of practice is not to perform,
but to participate — not to achieve specific experiences,
but to develop a new relationship with experience itself.

On Practice — More From Gunilla Norris

I am one who very much relates to the term “practice.”

All of life as practice. All as attention, sometimes very nuanced.

All as imperfect, yet lovely.

Whether the art and history of serving a cup of tea or the practice I’m currently in to make a delicious pot of soup.

Whether learning to be conscious with self or to be convening a community.

Gunilla Norris, my favorite writer of the week, offers this wisdom on Practice from her book, Inviting Silence.

Walking, eating a meal, dancing, breathing, chanting —
anything can be a practice so long as we are mindful,
so long as we are fully present. 
There are many ways, many traditions.

To bring silence into our bodies and minds,
we must learn to be quiet. We being by being still.
If a period of physical stillness is all we can muster,
that is enough. We have begun to practice.

If we can simply learn to follow our breath
in a steady way — attending to the inhalation
and the exhalation until we feel that we are no longer
breathing, but are being breathed
— we have grown in practice.

The point of practice is not to perform,
but to participate — not to achieve specific experiences,
but to develop a new relationship with experience itself.

Delicious, right.

Like tea, and soup.

Longing, Courage, Community

 

I love these words from the book above, that I began reading on the weekend. I sipped this book. Like a comforting cup of warm or hot tea.

“Throughout the years I have found that beneath whatever we might think our discontent is, we very much need three things: an awareness of our inner longing…the courage to act on behalf of that longing…and a sense of community to support and maintain our interior journey.”

Longing.

Courage.

Community.

I love it when I find references that feel so clear, practices that feel so grounding, and narratives that are so good for community.