Inspirations & Connections | IX. Stillness

As Advent leads to Christmas, let’s allow ourselves to step softly forward, that in the stillness and expectant hopefulness, we might seek those small glimmers of healing light.

Community, and creating a sense of community, is so important to me, and to the world. In this series, taking a particular theme, I want to share with you some of the inspirations, connections and other communities which have enriched my life, in the hope that they may do the same for you too.

---

As I grow older, I crave silence. In many respects, I don’t think this anything new. Even as a child, and perhaps more so as an only child, as much as I enjoyed spending time in the company of others, I always craved my own space. But deep down, we know that silence can be uncomfortable. It is in these moments of silence, without external distractions, they we come face to face with ourselves. There is no hiding in the shadows.

In our modern world, silence is hard to come by. For most of us, it’s nigh on impossible. As the years pass, I realise that we often approach silence in the wrong way. We crave those moments, yet the struggle to find them, and to comfortably inhabit the space when we reach them, feels almost counterproductive. In recent months, I’ve been thinking about silence in a different way. Instead of seeking the impossible, can we seek moments of stillness?

For many people, December is the busiest month of the year. The hoping and expectant waiting of the season of Advent, is eclipsed by the hustle and bustle of Christmas preparations. It’s hard not to get caught up in this frenzy. For many in society today, stillness, never mind silence, is left far beyond the back of the mind. We set our sights towards Christmas, and from now until then, feet are firmly on the accelerators.

---

This Rediscover · Reconnect · Re-Emerge post is free to read; however, to dig deeper and access the full range of posts and resources, you can become a paid subscriber for just £4 a month, or £40 a year. Paid subscriptions help me to continue creating new content, affording me time and space to explore new ideas, and allow me to continue supporting others to do the same. Every paid subscription has a big impact.

---

My Decembers used to be like this. As a musician, and especially a church musician, December was filled with a seemingly never-ending stream of concerts, carol services and other seasonal events. The demands on my time and energy were, ultimately, overwhelming. These days, I confess that I’ve shunned those December’s past in favour of something slower and simpler.

For me, one of the most magical parts of winter is watching the snow fall from the sky. It begins with an unveiling of a few solitary flakes in the glare of the street lamps, and ends with a cosy blanket on the ground. Somehow, when it snows, the world becomes still. Almost silently, these tiny white flakes fall from the sky, and as Christina Rossetti wrote:

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.

Amidst the celebrations of Christmas, look a little deeper, and some of our favourite traditional carols, jubilant as their message is, evoke calm and gentleness:

The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.

How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given!

Silent night! Holy night!
All is calm, all is bright

You see, silence, calm and stillness have always been part of the season of Advent and Christmas. In many respects, what we seek now is nothing new. We’ve been here before.

In my view, one of the most beautiful and poignant Christmas choral works of our generation, is by Sally Beamish, and it opens:

In the stillness of a church
Where candles glow
In the softness of a fall
Of fresh white snow
In the brightness of the stars
That shine this night
In the calmness of a pool
Of healing light

In these few lines, I think we can find some beautiful words that we can hold close to us in the month to come: stillness, softness, calmness and healing.

So as Advent leads to Christmas, autumn leads to winter, and eventually, December will lead to a new calendar year in January, let’s allow ourselves to step softly forward, that in the stillness and expectant hopefulness, we might seek those small glimmers of healing light.

---

If you’re not already doing so, I’d love you to follow me over on Instagram. You can also visit the A Life More Creative website, where you can find out more about My Story, and read articles from my online Journal. Subscribe on Substack to receive new posts and to support my work: