Meet me at the still point
Poetry and contemplation for the in between moments...
Hello to anyone who is new hereā¦ I am Lauren, a Mother of two daughters, a Writer, Soulful Business Mentor, Website & Branding Creator, Human Design Guide, Circle Facilitator, Sacred Space Holder and multi dimensional human being. You can find out more about this space and what to expect here. Please do subscribe to join the journey, and if you enjoy this, and you do have the means, I would be so grateful if you chose to support my creations for Ā£5 a monthā¦
Hello lovely one,
How is your heart? How are you feeling today?
My heart feels full, and yet also tender.
My body feels stronger than it has in a whileā¦ but also my back aches and my eyes feel tired.
My mind feelsā¦ settled... and then anxiousā¦ and then settledā¦ and then anxious again. There is a lot of change forthcoming and I am both excited and overwhelmed by it.
Itās Sunday morning as I start to write this. The girls are playing tea parties after our pancakes (a Sunday ceremony for us), while I snatch a few moments to pour words outā¦
I held a womenās circle on Friday. As always Iām in awe of what unfolds when women gather together. I sat with familiar faces and some new, women in all seasons of life, totally unique in their life experiences, and yet with so many similarities. The medicine of bearing witness to each other feels as though it is healing decades of suffering and pain in my heart.
I spend a lot of time in a sort of non-doing-action before holding circles - as our time of gathering draws near I invite an essence, a word, an anchor to surface that I will weave in to our space.
This time the essence that surfaced for me was still point.
Squabbles, tears and tantrums draw me away from my writing once more, and when all is soothed I returnā¦ another stolen moment to tend to my heart workā¦
Iām writing this in the still points of life. The micro ones, and the macro ones. In between Mothering, tending to my home and my human self.
Right now I am on the cusp. A threshold of crossing over into celebrating one more year of life on this planet as I prepare to turn 41 in just over a weekās time.
I love birthdays. I adore a chance to reflect on a cycle of life and look ahead to what I am dreaming of for the coming spin around the sun. But, I have to remember that there is no reflection time without a still point. And still points are not always seen as something to celebrate on our culture.
Iām now sitting on a bench pouring notes into my phone in the park while my husband pushes the girls on the swing. We just took a glorious walk through the sun dappled paths by the river and collected blackberries. I think to myself how āthis is itāā¦ itās all I ever need. My family. Nature. My words.
On Friday when I introduced the idea of still point to our circle it was met in different ways. I absolutely love the way that a word or phrase can land in the hearts of others so differently.
I invited the questionā¦ āWhat is calling to you in the still point?ā
Perhaps you too might like to sit with that question for a momentā¦
To me, embracing the still point is a rebellious cause. Itās opposing the forces around us that tell us we must rush, to be āthereā instead of here, to be ahead and seeking more rather than stopping to look at what is right in front of us.
And yesā¦ often what is right here, right now is not comfortable, it might be grief and rage, fear and frustration. Itās not always a pleasant sensation to be in a still point, but it is a deepening and when we miss out on these moments ā even the very tiny ones that last mere seconds ā we lose the art and importance of integration.
Itās Sunday afternoon now, my littlest is napping. The new potatoes nearly boiled over while I wrote, but now they sit covered in a drenching of olive oil, a pinch of salt and pepper and a sprinkling of herbs while I return to my words once moreā¦
How can we hold ourselves, and others, in the still point?
What comes forth when we pause for long enough to honour the bits in between?
How can we honour the gaps in between inhales, exhales, ebbs, flows, action and non action?
Itās in every day. In every cycle, in every season. We have the opportunity to witness our true selves, by simply meeting the still point. With curiosity, with gentleness, with a softnessā¦ with love.
When I think about what we LOSE when we do not take these pauses a lump forms in my throat and an ache ripples through my chest.
Rushing and pushing, forcing and āprovingā is taking us further and further away from living as fully alive human beings.
So where are the still points in a lifestyle that is naturally full and wild and chaotic?
ā Itās in lengthening the pause between sips of cacao that I drink while the girls eat their lunch in the garden.
ā Itās in the moment of stillness to rest my hands on my womb space, or my heart, before I reach for my phone in the mornings.
ā Itās in the quiet breath I keep trying to take while my 1 year old melts down for the fifteenth time that morning.
ā Itās in the moment where my hands are immersed in warm soapy water at the sink as I wash up breakfast dishes and tune into the sensation of heat on my skin.
ā Itās in the between phase of life when I am no longer who I once was but not really sure who I am becoming.
ā Itās in the time suspended in the air when I take a leap of faith in my business, praying that the net will appear when I need it to.
ā Itās in the relief that comes between giant sobs of grief where I can see hope againā¦ even for just a glimmer.
ā Itās in the silent holding when we sit in Circle to allow another woman to be in her process and integrate the power she has just expressed.
ā Itās in the moments where I can feel joy and magic and purest presence, when anxiety doesnāt have itās gnarly grip wrapped around my chest and belly.
Itās everywhere, and nowhere and it is only me that can consciously choose to take them.
Where do you find them?
Itās Monday morning now and my littlest is on the edge of sleep and awake in bed next to me, Iām typing words into my phone with no idea how long Iāve got so I write with intention until I no longer canā¦
I would love to share a moment of reflection, and a still point for you today. Below you can listen to, and read, some poetry that landed on Friday before our Circle.
Meet me at the still point
Meet me at the still point
Where the waves meet the shore
Where sunlight dances through the trees
Where I can hear my soul call
Where light beams begin their day
And where the sun fades to night
Where petals pause before they bloom
Still held in buds so tight
Where birds have yet to open wings
And soar into the sky
Where moon is dark and not yet seen
And stars wait to stud the sky
The cusp, the pause, the quiet time
Before the world begins to stir
The moments where our wild can speak
Our whispers finally heard
Meet me at the still point
Where bare feet kiss the earth
A returning to our precious dreams
A threshold for rebirth.
Let this still point hold us near
As souls merge with open hearts
A lack of movement beckons us
To make this life our art.
If you are a paid subscriber you can download a printable of this poem here if it speaks to you.
It is now Monday lunchtime, my youngest is napping and my eldest is watching Brave on Disney. I snuck out into the garden to record the poem above, and I am hoping I can press send on this before the afternoon chaos begins! I am sharing these little snippets of life to show you the reality of writing around the edges of Motherhood in this season of life. I wonder if you can also relate?
Iām so grateful to share these powerful moments with you, always.
Until next time.
Sent with so much love
Lauren
xxx
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This is so beautiful Lauren, but my most favourite part is the real-time snippets of where you are writing and pouring your words out.
It somehow strips away the perfection of a polished post, that I deeply envy in others, and makes it so much more real and relatable, knowing that you are crafting your art, your words, in those small moments because they simply need to come out. Stunning as always š¤
Still points before I dive into a card meaning. Have you read the TS Eliott poem about still points in a turning world?