Tag: Stillness
Noise

Noise

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As I descended into the shadowy forest, beams of light pierced the dark green of the fir and spruce trees as the sun illuminated low clouds hugging the high elevation. I stopped to take it in, to breathe in the wonder. Two hikers behind me, that had been mindlessly chattering and chittering, came up behind me and I actually shushed them. Not an aggressive ‘SHUSH’ but a gentle reminder that we were standing in a sacred moment.

They gasped and stopped to behold the wonder. How could anyone be oblivious to such powerful beauty? I guess this is why I prefer to hike alone and space myself away from others, especially those that never just ‘shut the heck up.’ 

My tolerance for noise goes down as I open to the gifts that silence brings me. And it’s not just talking or human-created noises, it’s background sounds like email and text pings…like the person in an astronomy club meeting last night that never silenced their phone. All through the program…ping…ping…ping…ping…ping…ping….ping. 

Robert C Byrd Green Bank Telescope

Interestingly enough, the program was on silence…a quiet zone. I am laughing out loud as I type this…ping….ping….ping went the cell phone as the film focused on a huge quiet zone. 

The Greenbank Observatory was the subject of the film.  The small community of people that live around it agree to no cell phone usage, no wify (wired ethernet is okay), bluetooth, or anything that would interfere with the world’s largest movable radio telescope. I was fascinated how much support the observatory has from the West Virginia community, even when they must maintain a quiet zone of 13,000 square miles. That’s 10 miles around the telescopes or about 107 miles wide and 120 miles long.

Green Bank

When is the last time you stepped outside the noise of your life? Do you remember the quiet at the center of your being? 

As our small group discussion about the film ended, the conclusion I drew? As humans, we are like the radio telescopes. We need silence to function properly. Why? We need to re-learn how to listen. To our hearts, to Nature, to the pulse of life beating within us. 

How can you create a quiet zone in your life? How does doing this create more space in your life?
Can’t Fight Gravity

Can’t Fight Gravity

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Perfect stillness. That was my experience as I laid under a clear sky with stars, planets, galaxies, and nebula sparkling overhead. The air was still. The woods were still. Not a crackle in the leaves from animals on their night journeys. I was still. At peace. Calm from my core.

A little over a year ago I started using a Seestar telescope, which is an amazing gadget that takes images of deep space objects without complicated setups with regular telescopes and cameras. And the images turn out fine for what I want. It was easy learning to use it with the help of YouTube and a little study. What wasn’t easy was learning how to be still and patient as the telescope gathered photons. And I was shocked at my discomfort.

I’ve photographed the night sky for decades, but in the last year took my passion for nocturnal sky adventures to a deeper level. At first, a five minute image was a stretch as I wanted to explore more and see more and jump to the next target. But then, as I learned to sink into myself deeper, I became fascinated with the details that an hour-long image revealed. Or gasp, an even longer exposure. 

My skills for landscape astrophotography have expanded as well. I started programming my camera remote and setting it up with a lens warmer (to prevent dewy fogging) and power bank and let my Nikon capture star trails as the Earth rotates. As the camera and little telescope do their thing, I’ve learned to be still.

By relaxing and observing the night sky, I’ve seen amazing meteors that I would have missed had I been staring at my screen, looking for the next target to image. But more than that, I’ve seen a calmer side of myself that I really, really like.

Earth rotates making the stars and planets appear to move and what I’ve learned to do is let this magnificent planet carry me without trying to force myself to go faster or fight against gravity. As if. Who else out there on this spinning blue sphere has tried to defeat gravity by operating at break-neck speed with your mind? When we do that, we live in a constant fight with space and time. And I think we all know what will win. 

Last night I celebrated the stars, planets, galaxies, nebula, and the surrender to stillness…to gravity…I’ve found within myself. And it felt really good.
The Grating Expanse of Stillness

The Grating Expanse of Stillness

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I set my alarm for 4.30am so I could go hike my favorite trail today. I had mixed feelings because it’s busy on a regular summer day, but the 4th of July weekend…I wasn’t sure.

Then, I woke up at 1.30am and couldn’t get back to sleep, so turned off the alarm and decided if I woke up early enough to get a parking space, I’d go and if not, I’d just stay home and skip the stress of the throngs of people.

I finally went back to sleep and slept until 6.09am, about the time I needed to be pulling into a parking space at the trail head. Whatever. I didn’t want to be around a ga-zillon people anyway and drive through the park with the insanity of traffic on this busy weekend.

But I miss the trail and miss the full day it takes to hike it….considering the day starts at 4.30 when I wake and then the hour long drive to the trail head, the 3 hours up and 2.5 hours down and then trying to pull out on the highway that runs through the park and the inevitable stoppage of traffic if someone takes a curve too fast. Two…three hours waiting for wreckers, rangers, and ambulances isn’t that unusual. So…gardening for me today.

I’m an active person who finds hiking in these mountains a wonderful way to engage with Nature and burn off my inner crazy. Stillness isn’t easy for me…at least on a meditation cushion. 

I enjoy stillness through yoga…a sort of moving stillness that is at the same time grounding and expansive. But perhaps my most still moments are when I’m hiking the steep trails through upper elevation forests of fir and spruce trees. I’m physically exerting myself significantly, yet the trees and rocks and moss ground me deeply into their place so I can soar.

Traditionally we think of stillness as sitting and ‘doing nothing’ and letting our mind still. My mind is at its stillest point when I am in Nature, connecting viscerally with everything around me. That’s when everything aligns and calms within me. But sit me on a cushion and tell me to be still and silent and my mind screams at the grating expanse of stillness. 
Stillness

Stillness

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Telescope and the Orion Constellation

I was sitting under a blanket of stars last night. The milder winter temperature made it pleasant. The waxing crescent moon wasn’t too bright, so I could observe stars, and the moon gave enough light to see the gray shadows of rocks and trees.

Crab Nebula

Since playing with a smart telescope begin in December, I’ve learned the art of stillness. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say I am learning the art of stillness. Taking an image of a far-away galaxy or nebula takes a while. Sometimes hours…but I’ve only done a 31 minute exposure thus far. There’s so much I want to see out there in the Universe so staying on one object for more than half an hour is challenging.

And I don’t want to go back inside the house while the telescope patiently records the stacks of images. Otherwise I could just rent telescope time from some far-away observatory while I sit in my home drinking hot cocoa and eating scones (as if I could afford that….but people do that…the renting telescope time, not eating scones and drinking hot cocoa). I want the experience of stargazing from underneath the sky, not my roof. The images are part of it, but the experience of awe under night skies…that’s my kick.

I always sense trees I connect with while hiking ‘say’…why are humans always in such a hurry…slow down and listen. I pause and stand with them, but rarely sit and ‘listen’ for more than a few minutes. 

Last night, I realized I was receiving the same message from the stars. So, I set up shots with the telescope, made sure it was working correctly by viewing it on my phone, and then placed my phone down on the ground under the tripod and watched the stars move ever-so-slowly across the sky.

Orion Nebula

Thirty minutes is a long time to sit and observe an image come into being. I’ll be honest, five minutes is a long time if you are used to being active person. Stargazing is helping me learn to slow down and operate from a different speed. 

My assignment is watching the stars move across the sky. Literally. Tracking stars reminds me that even the slowest, almost imperceivable movement is still movement and progress is being made. These experiences help connect me to deep time, that vast expanse of cosmic time, and that helps me move beyond the trappings of the chaos happening now in our world.

My growing edge is to embrace stillness…wherever I find myself. If possible, put my bare feet on the ground and connect directly to Her. Our Mother. Our Home.