Practicing Quiet

Upper West Side - New York City

It is early morning on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. The sun has yet to break the tree line over nearby Central Park.  When it does, it will flood my tiny apartment with the warm, orangey glow that signals it is time to hop in the shower and get ready for work. But the time before that is my favorite part of the day. It is when the moon, and sometimes even a few stars, lingers above the courtyard below. It is the small sliver of time between waking and the hustle and bustle of life...ringing phones, email alerts, appointments to make, deadlines to meet…before anyone wants anything from me.

Three sharp beeps on the coffee machine signal 5:45 a.m. I roll out of bed and breathe in the intoxicating scent of my favorite freshly brewed Dunkin Donuts coffee. I head for the kitchen and pull the carafe from its altar, and pour a cup of the steaming hot, early morning nectar into my favorite oversized red ceramic mug. Throwing the soft blue blanket, a gift from a close friend, around my shoulders, I retreat to my favorite Pottery Barn, Malabar chair, that I found last year on Craig’s List for a steal. And then I sit... quietly, cupping the hot mug, and slowly sipping. I close my eyes and take in the glorious quiet that is morning. Except for the faint chirp of a bird in the tree outside the window, and the gentle hiss of the radiator, the room is magnificently silent.

This is a ritual I’ve been starting my day with for about 9 months now. Sometimes I sit for 15 minutes and other times I stay for an hour. Some days I read a passage from Mark Nepo’s amazing work “The Book of Awakening,” other times I meditate to a Tara Brach podcast, some days I write in my journal, and still other times I just sit and take in the nourishing quiet and focus on breathing, in...and breathing out...

I used to think I didn’t have the time to do this. I’d get up with just enough time to shower and change, then rush out the door, fighting against and bemoaning the hoards on the subway and the long lines to get breakfast. But now I make the time, because whether I sit for 10 minutes or 60, this daily habit has changed my life.

It doesn't seem like anything is happening while I am sitting. But what I've noticed is that when my feet hit the New York City pavement I don't seem to be rushing along with the crowd as I once did. I go at my own pace, even as crazed subway riders dart around me, I walk along evenly, without rushing. It seems this coming awake with the natural rhythm of the world allows me to get in touch with what’s happening inside of me and as a result I am less concerned with what other people are doing.

One of my favorite ways to spend the time is to make mental lists about things for which I am grateful, family, friends, a lovely conversation the day before with a colleague, a memory of a great play I saw the night before.  Still other times I just sit there and watch the light slowly fill the room as I sip my coffee. It's a gentle, purposeful way to become a part of life rather than trying to catch up to it.

I suppose, like Yoga, the breathing part of this simple quiet time is what is most significant. And by doing this “practice” every day, I have started to associate breathing with a calm, peaceful, sometimes even joyful state. It’s not always conscious, I am not going around thinking about how peaceful I am all day. But I’ve noticed that my body has started to associate breathing with a more centered approach to life. I once had a friend say “You need to wear your life like a loose garment.” Now I know what she meant.

My quiet practice has helped me, as Tara Brach says, to “notice” events and emotions rather than react to them. And it is a “practice” for sure. In other words, I am never perfect. I get royally pissed off sometimes! Like when people walk down a crowded city sidewalk on the left side, it drives me crazy!  This is not England! We walk and drive on the right hand side!  But the difference with my quiet practice is that now, I am much more aware that in every situation, good or difficult, I can choose to respond in quiet way. I now refrain from blurting out you’re on the wrong side! … well, most of the time anyway.  Life feels so much simpler and enjoyable now.

When I saw this recent “New York Times” article on the Joy of Quiet I knew I was on to something. This idea of taking time to go inside in order to function better when you are outside is gaining traction. This is not to say I expect that I will reach some internal nirvana where life is always joy and happiness. I once had the mistaken belief that if I regularly meditated, life would eventually get to some even, stress free place. The quiet practice has taught me that there is no "there" to get to. It is what is here now that matters. Now my goal is to stay present to the moment longer. And when I leave the present and start darting around in my “to do” lists, bills, and other concerns, I notice, at least sooner than before, and then remember to get back to breathing, to quiet...to me.

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Kellie
artofliving@kellietabron.com