I’ve had a sort of meditation practice for several years now, after reaching a point of chaos in my life. But lately I’ve been reflecting on how the sitting-still, eyes-closed version of meditation isn’t always what’s right for me.
In truth, I rarely practise in that way at all now, or not for long periods anyway.
The practices that bring me to stillness, that help me notice my ruminating thoughts, that create space for something else to come forward, don’t always look like traditional meditation.
I’m not sharing this to talk you out of meditating – perhaps it works beautifully for you, or perhaps you feel curious to try it. I think I’m really speaking to those of us who have felt a quiet shame around not consistently keeping to a silent, seated practice.
The things that shine a light on my patterns, that bring me peace and ease, that quieten me enough to let creativity seep in, are often rooted in movement and flow. They are tied to my womanhood – which doesn’t follow the rigidity or expectations of this world. It moves like the waves, sometimes gentle, sometimes crashing. Like the phases of the moon. Bright and soothingly dark.
Here are some of mine:
- Walking alone through woodland paths.
- Watching the deer and hares roaming their land.
- Merging with freezing water.
- Being captivated by nature’s small details.
- Hands resting on cool, wet moss.
- Dancing in the kitchen with my son.
- Watching my little dog sleep – rest comes so easily to him.
- Making a hot coffee.
- Immersing myself in the slow work of making my ceramic dioramas.
I believe there are many ways to reach deeply within ourselves. And for women, perhaps this is the permission we need – to step into nature when we can, or simply to give ourselves permission to do more of whatever it is that brings us peace.
For me, being in the natural world isn’t just a form of exercise. It’s a direct line to my truest nature. A remembering of who I am before I return to the hustle of life, and a reminder of what truly matters.
And yet nature hasn’t always been, and still isn’t – easily accessible for all women. Which feels important to acknowledge, because it is also a medicine many of us need and deserve, for our collective mental wellbeing.
So if today you danced in your kitchen, or walked a favourite forest path – or perhaps it was simply that first sip of hot coffee that brought you back to yourself – let that be enough.
Even if it didn’t look serious enough, or quiet enough, or proper enough.
It was.
And you can let yourself exhale.
With warmth,
Marie