~ God told me to be an artist, week 35
Friday 11th August, 2023.
Imagine stillness. Can you do it? I find it really hard to do. As I begin to write this I'm sitting in a roadside cafe, the traffic, the background talking, my own music blasting in my ears and general hustle and bustle of a city all reverberate around me.
It's loud, it's fast, it's relentless.
It's anything but still. There is no peace.
It almost feels weird to be writing about stillness, it's a feeling I only really associate with my annual trips to northern Sweden. My brain has always connected my best friend Hannah [who lives in Sweden] and the country itself with stillness, hence my belief that I can only really experience stillness if I'm there.
So patiently each year I wait. For a trip, a FaceTime with Hannah, a connection in some way to this person and this place that enable me to feel a sense of peace. A striving or rather an urgency usually fills my me as a trip to Sweden draws near. There's a relief in me that remembers how much better I will feel soon, when I'm there. Stillness itself has always been something I assume I must long for and soak in when it's available. It's something outside of me that I need to find and hold onto.
It wasn't until I became a christian that I began to learn that stillness was not such an external thing, but rather, something that could be built internally, with a little help of course. This concept initially was completely lost on me.
So, in true Catherine fashion I began to research extensively what peace and stillness actually are and mean. Whenever something stumps me I am overwhelmed with the need to find answers, an itch I must scratch immediately.
I love the definition of peace that describes it as, a freedom from disturbance, isn't it great? That's what stillness really feels like to me, being separate from the aches and disruptions of being alive, to exist in another place. Although your circumstances and reality are swirling around you, there is another plane, a different headspace where you can breathe.
Interestingly, the definition of stillness has a similar twang to it, the absence of movement or sound. To me what jumps off the page is that peace and stillness have an overlap - that when experiencing them there is something removed or not there.
Isn't that funny, that I always thought of peace as something I needed to seek, to hold onto and most importantly add into my life whenever I had the chance. Whereas actually it seems having an increased or more consistent stillness is found in the stripping away.
This train of thought has gotten me thinking about the last few years. They've been what I would describe as the pruning years. I have felt like layer by layer so much of who I am and what I would consider my identity has been stripped away. I've felt like the tomato plant at the front of my house. As it grows I am required to pluck off the side shoots. If I leave the side shoots on I'll likely still get tomatoes but they'll be less than they could be in terms of quality, taste and size. When I pluck off the side shoots it redirects the energy towards the most fruitful growth and with it comes a more flourishing plant and crop.
This is the way I've been feeling during the pruning years. I know the plucking is best for my growth and development, but theres a lot that's been taken away, sometimes things I don't want to loose. It makes me think, why does the tomato plant have side shoots if they need to be taken away? Why hasn't evolved not to have them if they can potentially make it a worse plant?
I guess it's like us, it tries to do things in a lot of different directions in the hope that some of it will work or be fruitful, a more is more approach if you like. Maybe it can't always see where it's producing in the wrong way or perhaps too much.
Producing too much - I have battled so much with God about this. If you've been following my blog then you understand why. I've tried in my own strength for so many years, most of my adult life actually, to produce in every direction, not only that, but to produce with excellence in every direction. And just like the tomato plant, these unnecessary/ excessive side shoots of productivity have reduced the quality of the main stalks.
Excessive producing has diluted the outcome of my purpose. Oooosh that's a tough pill to swallow. The reason I know this is because alongside my overproducing has been prolonged periods of confusion, frustration, flip flopping and increased anxiety. I know following purpose will be challenging but there is also focus. I haven't felt focused in such a long time, despite working all the hours possible!
So what do I do with this realisation? I could continue to fight it, disagree with the pruning and slowing process God has been inviting me into for years now or I could begin the process of actual surrender?
I could finally stop fighting? Stop producing a million side shoots?
For so long I have seen the obstacles in my own life and how I stand in my own way. I've understood them logically but it has been pointed out to me that sometimes I try to intellectualise things in order to not feel them too deeply, so perhaps now is the time to try something different?
I think it's time to admit my way has not been working, not only admit it, but begin to actually hand everything back over to God as say, okay keep pruning me, keep refining me, keep honing me and let's walk into purpose and eternity together.
I have a feeling this will be something I have to lay down daily, but it feels like the momentum of this last year in particular has been buildings towards this point.
Towards surrendering.
A friend commented this week that sometime God speaks in the contentment of situations, when we aren't filling the space with noise and busyness. This really spoke to me, what could happen if I stopped fighting and allowed more space, and gaps into my existence?
Perhaps there could engender a new stillness, a peace that grows from the inside? Not only something I feel in Sweden or in certain people's company but the peace of God, that passes all understanding?
Maybe the surrender will be the most painful side shoot removal yet, but the crop at the end of this season will be the most glorious?
I think God's about to show out, if I finally lay it down, do my part, he'll do his.
God, finally, I lay my life, work and purpose pursuing down. Please help me lay it down over and over as I try to pick it back up and control everything. Thank you for never giving up on me. Thank you that your plans are what's best for me.
Woah, I gotta make some art about all this.
I surrender.
Finally.
See you next week, Cath x
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