#136: Stillness — Community for Change

The Community for Change is beginning to revisit past blogs and share them with the community. I feel that so many blogs from the past are so beautiful and inspiring and worth sharing again. I hope you enjoy this one, written by Brinton about a year ago.

Though not always easy in the hectic life of my master's year, I try to make time to bike to a nature park near my apartment at least once a week. While I sit at a table in this park, I try to intentionally take breaks from my studying to watch exactly what's going on around me - kids laughing, dogs catching frisbees, couples skateboarding - and though I am watching all of the dynamic activities taking place, I always feel a huge stillness fill inside of me. And I listen to this newly created silence and peace, bringing it with me for the rest of the day.

- Amanda

Brinton Johns: brinton.johns@gmail.com

Stillness

Stillness is something I’ve always aimed for, but a practice I find immensely difficult. It’s the same flaw that so often gets me into trouble with the bees.

I’ve been visiting a Jesuit silent retreat center near our house. As I pull up the long driveway and switch off my cell phone for the next 24 hours, my body whispers a sigh of relief. There’s no speaking at the retreat center and usually few people. At 45, I’m not young, but I’m a spring chicken at the retreat center. I didn’t grow up Catholic, so I find the place a bit like entering into a secret society where I don’t know the passwords and special handshakes. Because we agree to give each other the gift of silence, I can’t explain that I’m not familiar with the rituals and ask for help. I end up faking them and trying to not draw attention to myself — which doesn’t work that well because everything happens so fast it’s hard to see what’s going on. I’m sure I look utterly ridiculous, but no one seems to care. Or at least they don’t say anything about it 😉

It takes a while for my system to lose the buzz that comes with day to day life. But after a few cups of coffee (decaf) and watching the sun slip behind the Rockies, my hearing begins to take on depth.

Stillness has helped me begin to untangle “role” from “identity”. Meaning the “role” that I have played for so many years sometimes gets confused with “identity”. The stillness reminds me that identity is something deeper. Something more human and much more divine.

In particular, it’s been difficult for me to turn down the need to “prove it”. Some might call it performing, but for me, it’s more competitive than that. It’s more of a striving to prove that I can do it, that I’m worthy. Maybe this is a human issue, a guy issue or maybe it’s just a Brinton issue — I don’t know. But I do know that the stillness has something to say about it. As I sit in the stillness under a tree in the foothills surrounding the retreat center, the message from the stillness is this: “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You are enough.”

What is stillness trying to tell you? How will you know?

Brinton's first-person bio:

After 17 years at Janus Capital, I'm taking a sabbatical. While at Janus, I served as an analyst, portfolio manager and team leader to an incredibly talented group of technology analysts. My biggest joy is to grow. My second biggest joy is to watch others grow and play some small part in that growth.