It is good to take a weekend and just you, or you and your dog, head out into the wilderness. Walk by yourself. Be by yourself. It will help you in your search for stillness and perfection.
Spend time alone in areas of low population density, where you can feel the stillness. Go out into the desert or up into the mountains or to the ocean where there aren't too many people.
Have lots of plants in your house. Nature and plants understand something about stillness and silence. As you interact with the green world, you will find a peace will enter your life.
You don't need to be recluse and stay away from people. But you have to set aside a lot of time for stillness. That is the only place there is real fulfillment. You need to slow it down.
All I have to teach you are feelings, the words don't matter much. But as you listen, feel the stillness of my mind, not my mind but of mind...infinite mind.
Enter into the activities of the world, without getting overjoyed by success or totally put out by failure. Whether they love you or hate you, it doesn't much matter. What matters is stillness.
When you meditate you feel joy, harmony, peace, stillness, ecstasy, laughter, certainty, courage, strength, awareness and immortality. In the beginning you will feel these things vaguely, a distant knocking at your castle door.
The mind is essentially a survival machine. Attack and defense against other minds, gathering, storing, and analyzing information - this is what it is good at, but it is not at all creative. All true artists, whether they know it or not, create from a place of no-mind, from inner stillness.
The endless cycle of idea and action, / Endless invention, endless experiment, / Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness; / Knowledge of speech, but not of silence; / Knowledge of words, and ignorance of The Word.
If you suppress the exorbitant love of pleasure and money, idle curiosity, iniquitous pursuits and wanton mirth, what a stillness would there be in the greatest cities.
All the joys in all the worlds of all beings who have ever been or will ever be, will never equal the perfection of one moment of absorption into the stillness of nirvana.
Where should the scholar live? In solitude, or in society? in the green stillness of the country, where he can hear the heart of Nature beat, or in the dark, gray town where he can hear and feel the throbbing heart of man?
Not many years ago, it was access to information and movement that seemed our greatest luxury; nowadays its often freedom from information, the chance to sit still, that feels like the ultimate prize. Stillness is not just an indulgence for those with enough resources its a necessity for anyone who wishes to gather less visible resources.
We spend a great deal of time telling God what we think should be done, and not enough time waiting in the stillness for God to tell us what to do.
When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean And billows wild contend with angry roar, 'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore. Far, far beneath, the noise of tempests dieth And silver waves chime ever peacefully, And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flyeth Disturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea.
Once you have mastered the ten thousand states of mind, it's paranirvana, the absorption into the stillness forever.
To be still means to empty yourself from the incessant flow of thoughts and create a state of consciousness that is open and receptive.
The Brightwood Stillness is a novel I could not put down. On the surface, it is the lives of normal people in trying circumstances. Deeper, it is an uncannily perceptive exploration of male psychology… Pomeroy is a brave new voice capable of taking us beyond the clichés of war and its aftermath and into the secret heart of every man. This is simply the best novel I’ve read in a long time.
Stillness is the ruler of haste.
Greed, fear, lust, hate, jealousy, these are part of reality too ... bundles of consciousness wrapped tightly, barbs on which you can injure yourself, volatile energies that serve as separations between yourself and perfect stillness.
Currents of energy shimmer through our bodies. Like shooting stars, we rocket through spacious stillness. But this silent, unmoving background is nothing like the granite ideas we use trying to take root in groundless soil.
...the haunted always take refuge in stillness.
I supply my own angels and demons. I exist on a stony beach, which lowers itself in waves toward a protective ocean. A dog barks; a child cries; the day sinks and becomes night. You can never scare me. No human being will be able to scare me ever again. I have a prayer that I repeat to myself in absolute stillness: May a wind come to stir up the ocean and the stifling twilight. May a bird come from water out there and explode the silence with its call.
A blight had fallen on the trees and shrubs; and the wind, at length beginning to break the unnatural stillness that had prevailed all day, sighed heavily from time to time, as though foretelling in grief the ravages of the coming storm. The bat skimmed in fantastic flights through the heavy air, and the ground was alive with crawling things, whose instinct brought them forth to swell and fatten in the rain.
We can't just stop. We're not rocks-progress, migration, motion is... modernity. It's ANIMATE, it's what living things do. We desire. Even if all we desire is stillness, it's still desire for.
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