With new walking poles in hand, I traipse through the pine woods on an enchanted April morning. Meandering over the animal trails, I eventually pause in a small forest opening, catching a glimpse of a thrush hiding in low branches, waiting me out.
How often do we get to be face-to-face with a bird? That’s what happened next. He studied me carefully, decided I was no threat, and continued his routine, hopping along the pine needle carpet, his beady black eyes intent.
Let’s redefine what it might mean to stand still. When I’m teaching choristers, they are encouraged to observe the support of their feet. From there, they can let the body move ever so slightly in a figure-eight pattern. These micro-movements prevent fatigue and fainting, both a hazard for choral singers who often stand in place for long periods of time.
Standing still in this lively way brought so much more of the world to my notice. On leaving the forest opening by the same path, I now saw spring beauties, the bleached jawbone of a woods creature, a wooly-worm, and heard a deer snort nearby. None of these wonders were in my field of attention on arrival.
Whether bird watching, singing, or waiting in line at the grocery, remind yourself that standing still can bring the world to you, and does not require freezing in place. May a few moments of lively stillness be yours today—-