Stillness

I love the stars because I have to be still in order to see them. Somehow the expanse of what I cannot understand filled with pinholes of light thousands of years away has the power to empty me of myself and replace my chaos with calm.

This weekend I’m in the middle of writing a long critical paper. I’m wading through articles and struggling to understand big words that I constantly have to stop and look up. It fascinates me, but at the same time it is too much. My brain is aching. And when I finish this paper I have another waiting its turn to be written. So I don’t have time to be still, but I think this is the moment when I need it the most.

I just came in from lying on my back, the grass beneath me, the stars above. One calm moment is giving me the strength to keep reading, to keep writing, to keep using my dictionary.

I think I love the stars because I can’t gaze at the heavens and keep my eyes on the world around me at the same time. The stars force me to be calm because to find them I cannot think of anything else. They allow me to forget, for a moment, all that seeks to weigh upon my soul. They lift, not just my burden, but me. They are beautiful, patiently waiting to be noticed.