What comes to mind when you see the word ‘stillness’? It’s not a word much talked about in our busy and fast-paced society. There’s simply not a lot of time for it, with all we’ve got to get done. There was a time in my life when I used to tell people ‘I suck at sitting still,’ and I meant it and lived it.

Most people I know attempt stillness when they go on vacation, but fail to achieve it. Between the planning, the packing, the getting there, the unpacking, the sightseeing and day trips, by the time we get back to the hotel we’re wiped out. But we faithfully get up the next day and do it all over again. A week of this kind of ‘relaxation’ and we’re ready to go back to work where things can quiet down again! This isn’t rest and it’s rarely relaxing. The last thing it could be called is stillness.

The dictionary defines stillness as ‘the absence of movement or sound.’ This certainly doesn’t happen on vacation, and in my opinion is a very poor definition of the type of stillness I am referring to. The dictionary definition is more appropriate to a quiet night or a windless afternoon.

No, the stillness I am talking about and have been in the habit of practicing comes in two forms. The first is physical stillness. For me the most effective place for this practice is outdoors, in a quiet natural setting. My preference is a forest or wooded area, but in a boat on a pond, by the ocean, even in a comfy chair with a pleasant view are great places also.

I like to sit and watch the life of the outdoors happen. Mostly, I spend time on my deck in my backyard. I watch the birds flit back and forth and listen to the call and response of their song. I watch the little birds, like sparrows chase off bigger birds, like crows which strikes me as comical. Those crows look like they could take a sparrow apart with a swipe of a talon, or the dart of a beak, but they’re scared of those little guys! I love watching the hawks spiraling slowly higher on the thermal updrafts, scouting the land below for their next meal. I imagine what the sheer joy of that kind of flight must feel like.

I watch the squirrels run, jump and even leap from tree to tree via a network of interconnected branches that act like a highway system. They drive my dog nuts running along the fence line, never teetering, confident in their ‘high-wire’ abilities and probably laughing at the crazy mutt yelling his head off while they remain inaccessible in their lofty position.

I’ve seen hordes of bugs seemingly dancing in the rays of evening sunlight, circling each other in a complex, yet recognizable pattern. I’ve discovered that these patterns are forms of communication mostly regarding reproductive interest and availability.

I’ve noticed that there are specific ways animals and insects behave in differing types of weather. Birds, for instance apparently know the rain is coming well in advance, and tend to hunker down in their nests or perch on a branch, under a good leaf canopy. Fortunately, I have radar, but as I watch the weather cell on my phone approaching, I notice the birds stop flying and quiet down. Who needs the weatherman?

This physical stillness, combined with attentiveness to my surroundings leads me naturally into the second type, which is mental stillness. Stilling my mind, quieting my active thoughts. It’s not something that’s easy to do in the bustle of the day. In times of emotional strain or pressures of life that are mentally taxing, I find it challenging to still my thoughts and calm my mind. I’ve found starting with physical stillness can lead to a calmer, more peaceful mental state, which is the ultimate goal, the benefits of which I’ll delve deeper into momentarily.

But it is worth mentioning that while this is my preferred method, another common way that many people have found of getting to this mental stillness place is by activity – but specific types of activity. Ryan Holiday, the author of Stillness Is The Key likes to mend fences on his Texas ranch. Winston Churchill would spend time bricklaying. He was a qualified member of the Amalgamated Union of Bricklayers and at Chartwell, his home in Kent, he laid a brick wall around his vegetable garden. He also built a swimming pool and a goldfish pond. Einstein played the violin, countless men and women go fishing. The Japanese have a term – shinrin roku – which, translated, means ‘Forest Bathing’ – going for a walk in the woods. Other types of physical activity that can lead to stillness are painting and drawing, sewing, knitting, woodworking and other kinds of crafting – repetitious activities with our extremities that require focused intense concentration on the activity at hand.

In either case, neuroscience tells us that when we engage in these kinds of activities, be they active or passive, it has the effect of shutting down the part of our brain that gets restless with the news of the day, the pressures of life, the emotion of relationships, the worries of deadlines, etc. Making the time and purposing to bring myself into this state of stillness has brought immense benefits to me in several ways.

First, it has helped me prioritize my to-do list. I’m weighed down, like any of us are, by the endless list of things that clamor for my time, attention and money. By having a clear and still mind, I’m better able to look at those things objectively. This allows me to consider consequences – both of action and inaction – and make better judgements on what is a must, what is important, what would be nice and what can be delayed. As things get done, more things pile on and I’ve found it incredibly useful to regularly take time out to re-organize my priorities. This also has had the side-benefit of enabling me to accomplish my tasks a lot more effectively since I am not worrying about things on the list. I know they’re sorted and prioritized, and I can begin the work of checking them off the list.

Secondly, stillness has enabled me to see solutions to problems I had not even considered. It has brought an objectivity to my very subjective life! By stilling my mind and my emotional state, I allow myself to dream and visualize. In that ‘dreamy’ utopian line of thinking, I’ve opened my mind up to options I’d never have normally considered. I’ve envisioned what could be or how I’d like it to be. I’ve considered possibilities, no matter how outlandish. In the stream of consciousness that meanders like a quiet brook moving ever slowly down hill to the river, one idea connects to another idea, one possibility to another and suddenly, the spark of inspiration produces the idea that leads to the solution to an issue I’ve been wrestling with, sometimes for months.

Third, stillness has enabled me to more rapidly receive direction in situations where I’ve had multiple options to choose from. When my mind is cluttered with information and alternatives, everything is a jumble and how to best judge between them becomes confusing to evaluate and process. I’ve discovered when I get still, comparisons and contrasts become more evident. I see angles to choices I’d not seen in the noise of my mind. Similar to priorities, certain options become obviously irrelevant now that I am able to see more clearly, while others shine like the noon-day sun. My path suddenly becomes clearer, my options become narrower and I am better able to not just make a choice, but a confident choice. There’s a massive difference between hoping your plan will work and knowing it will.

The last one I will mention – though there are many more – is getting to a place of stillness enables me to reconnect to myself; to my values. It brings me back to my integrity and my priorities as a human being. In my deliberations, it allows me to factor in what kind of a person do I want to be as I assess my priorities, action plans and directional focus. It allows me to consider the pros and cons of my choices and actions. It resets my decision tree along ethical lines that will speak to my character and reputation in the months and years ahead. Stillness has taught me that identity should produce my actions, and actions will produce right feelings. When I have attempted to allow my feelings to produce my actions in the hopes of garnering an identity, rarely have I landed in a place of satisfaction.

I’m learning to stop letting circumstances, expectations, stress and the busyness of life dictate the flow and direction of my life. I’ve stopped running on auto-pilot. Incorporating stillness into my daily routine has proven to have benefits far beyond what I would have expected, and has shown to be a critical part of the pathway to success in the ways in which I measure and value success. I’ve found there is no substitute for peace of mind and the confidence and self-esteem that come with the clarity that stillness brings.