The art of contemplation

The Art of Contemplation

When I was a young child, I was taught to stop, look, and listen when getting ready to cross the street. Today, this remains excellent advice when navigating life. When we forget to stop, look and listen, we miss things. Always being busy affords us very little time to contemplate anything big or small. Our modern life pushes tangible output and busyness as a marker for success.

Many people believe they should be doing something more productive, something different than what they are currently doing. I remember my mother telling me on many occasions to find something productive to do. This message has stuck with me and I equated the lack of productivity as being useless. In our culture, this is particularly prevalent if we are doing things that are not typically what we’d call work—sitting in the garden, drawing the clouds, watching the birds in the woods, or reading poetry. We are taught one should be doing something more structured that actually produces a product or service, a task with a measured outcome.  Are they really the only things that count?

I believe we need to cultivate a contemplative state of being—being as a daily practice. We must be able to step back, take a moment, breathe, and do nothing. In the moment of nothing arises a truth, a clear perception into whatever is in front of us. If we are busy, we miss it. The art of contemplation is essential to our spiritual growth.

Can we be okay with simply doing nothing? Or do we still secretly feel that we should be doing something more constructive? What if all our actions have equal value whether we are wading our feet in the river or tapping keyboards on our computer? What if nothingness is part of a genuine human life, that indeed long periods of nothingness are a significant part of our spiritual development? The practice of contemplation is simple but profound. Perhaps if we were to stop, look, and listen as a practice in our daily life it opens us up to something extraordinary…just giving you something to contemplate.

Much love,

Margo & the Herd