Margaret Silf, one of my favourite authors on prayer, describes stillness as being “10 feet down”, below the surface of the choppy waters of our lives where we mostly live.
The purpose of stilling ourselves is to bring us down to the deeper currents of our hearts, where we can begin to notice what we are really feeling, what is moving us at a deeper level of our being, and where these feelings and movements have their roots. And it is precisely in those deep currents that God is speaking to our hearts, revealing our innermost desires and fears to us, inviting us to reach out towards the deepest desire of our hearts and to surrender our fears and hurts to his healing…
Margaret Silf. Taste and See.
But stilling ourselves is difficult. One image Silf uses is a glass of muddy water, that is shaken, disturbed, stirred around. When we stop to pray, while we might be still in our bodies, internally we are still rushing around, swirling like the muddy water. Our mind racing around to things that have happened, or jobs and tasks that need to be done. But gradually, as we learn how to still ourselves, we find the mud settles in the glass, the water becomes clearer and our mind and body become present to the moment, rather than dwelling in the past or future.
We can learn how to become still. In our western culture, that so values speed and productivity, we have lost touch with the value of slowing down, but this is essential, as we come to prayer. We simply can not expect to find a centred place of stillness if we treat prayer as one more activity to do in our packed days. Our approach to prayer is as important as the prayer itself. I try to slow down about half an hour before I come to pray. A slow shower, enjoying the water drops cleansing me. A cup of coffee, hot and steaming, and slowly sipped. Enjoying a piece of toast, slowly savoured. All of this prepares me to pray. My body and mind slowing down, as I prepare to meet the God of all creation.
Our environment is also crucial. Prayer, when we feeling uncomfortable, is nigh impossible. We become more aware of our aching joints or cold toes, than the Divine Presence. A comfortable chair, arms supported, back straight. Not so comfortable that I fall asleep, but a posture of openness and alertness. As we sit, we become aware of our breathing. I find deliberately slowing down my breathing helps me to slow down, and with each breath, I breathe out any worries or concerns, things that are on my mind; and breathe in the peace of Christ.
Other things can help us slow down and find that place of stillness. Some people find images helpful. Or a candle. Or stones. A scripture, not to read, dissect and understand, but a phrase to repeat over again, that focuses my thoughts and heart on the Lord. My current one is Psalm 18:1 – “I love you, O Lord, my strength.”
And then when we begin to find a place of centeredness and stillness, we can pay attention to what we notice. What do we notice about our hearts? Our emotions? Our hopes and fears? Our desires? And God, where is He? What do we notice about Him? His posture? His “face”? His movement towards us?
There are many times when I find this kind of stillness elusive. My mind racing to the next thing of the day, and I can’t reign these thoughts back in. But perseverance is essential, and those moments of being fully (or even partially) present to God are worth the wait and all the times of not being present and still in prayer.
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