Quiet

Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash

The tide is very high tonight, with a full moon and a storm offshore that are pulling the ocean into the bay until it completely covers the marsh of verdant green on sunny afternoons. Now that marsh is submerged, and lights from the mainland reflect and lengthen across deep water not usually there. From our side the lights reflect on water that keeps coming in, keeps moving as the tide clock says ”high,” and the storm drains gurgle as the water spills up from them onto the street and I wonder if I should move the car someplace higher as the trickling water in the gutter nears the tires.

It's not yet Labor Day, but most of the summer residents have already gone home to put the kids back in school, to go back to the office, leaving the beach, the boardwalk and the bay to stragglers like me on this chilly, overcast late August night. From down the street I hear the waves crash ashore and the insects chatter in the park across the street. Every once in a while a bird lets out a raspy cry. It is quiet. The bay darkens to a large black void and I just sit here, moved to do nothing. It is quiet and still and my life is suitable.

I write about quiet and stillness in my book. I’m an advocate for doing things from exercise to housework in silence. You can turn everything into meditation, especially physical labor, if you minimize distractions and focus deeply on your effort. This is not an escape from the world. It’s a true entry into your inner experience as you interact with the world. And wouldn’t you know? Now it’s a fad on TikTok.

Apparently “quiet walking” is a thing. Influencers on the most distracting platform ever created are going against their business model and encouraging their followers to take out the ear buds, put the phone down, and go for a walk. At first this seems an oversimplification of the walking meditation practiced in the monasteries I have visited and the walking meditation I have taught in my classes. Well it is. Walking can be a deep practice. But so can a quiet stroll around the neighborhood, and I applaud this latest trend. As my daughter insists, TikTok isn’t all bad.

I wasn’t always so open-minded about simple practice. In fact, I was kind of stuck up. I was critical of the mindfulness industry that promised nothing but good feelings and good health for a few minutes of focus on the breath every day. I had a special venom for mindfulness apps, and I told my students to stop reading books about mindfulness and just sit. I saw real danger and reduced benefits in guided meditations. So much so that I stopped guiding meditations in my classes. Since no one wants to spend money for a class where the teacher just closes his eyes, places his attention on the breath, and then just sits there for about 20 minutes, and then has the audacity to tell you to do the same while he cashes his check, I stopped teaching.

I had a lot left to learn before I could return to teaching. Part of what I had to learn was the acceptance of the small steps people take as they dabble in meditation, and the faddish influencers who encourage them. Meditation does not have to be an austere practice, and it does not have to have deep spiritual underpinnings. No, it may not always be pleasant, but it will certainly be beneficial.

I honestly have not been meditating much lately. At least not the seated inward kind. I watch the birds on the bay a lot, and often just watch the water move with the tides, like tonight. At my last appointment my doctor chastised me for letting seated meditation go. He’s said my meditation practice had more to do with my ability to live well with bipolar disorder than any medication I have taken or therapy I have undergone. I know he’s right, and I committed that I will immediately begin to re-establish my formal practice.

Next week we return to the city. Tonight the water in the bay has stilled and the water in the street has started to drain back down the way the drains on the corner are meant to work. Reflected in the long fingers of glassy light on the bay the marsh grass peeks up again out of the receding water. The birds have gone quiet and the wind has died down. In the city quiet will be hard, but it’s easy to go quiet walking like they do on TikTok in a place like this. Early tomorrow morning I could be the only person on the beach meandering before the waves as the sandpipers scatter and the sun rises behind the distant casinos.

Certainly next week quiet walking will be a challenge. The pace in the city is exponentially faster, but stress and anxiety catch up easily as you hurry down the street. It’s hard to re-start a meditation practice once you’ve stopped, but I will. I need to. I’ve got my doctor’s orders and when I sit the lost but familiar sense of solitude embraces me with the comfort of quiet. Yes, meditation, and quiet, can be unnerving. Challenging voices in our heads can make us uncomfortable. But taken slowly, learned in bits, quiet time can be full of promise, and faith, and health.

So now I’ll be quiet, too. It’s a good night. Enjoy the space to be still.

I haven’t blatantly promoted my book Practicing Mental Illness – Meditation, Movement and Meaningful Work to Manage Challenging Moods in a while. Please check it out and pick up a copy here.