Still Standing Without Demand

the intersection of mind and body

A few years after my daughter was born, I headed to the East of Nederland’s and settled for part of the year, in a tiny off-grid wooden house. Despite fairly close to a small village, this place situated inside the woods, side-by-side with the Vecht river, felt like it was many miles away.

Maybe it was the forest itself - a multi-scaled enclosed world sheltered between branches and roots. The wild and timeless smells carried by mist and wind. The melodic birdsong reverberating in the air. Or the passing of time, suffused by an unreasonable slowing down combined with a hearth fire and the changing seasons.

But to really arrive here, one needs to slow down. And I was quite far from it.

When we are used to follow many impulses, getting distracted and busy with all sort of things, our mind and body grow apart. A gap appears between what we perceive with the mind and what the real body is actually saying. As compensation, we tend to fill this negative space with narratives, ideas, concepts, images and explanations about our bodies. There’s no space left for mystery. Maybe you recognize this too. We think and talk about the body. Yet we ignore the body’s true reality.

To bridge this gap, I first needed to notice it. To honestly entrain with the nature around me, with my child, the animals and the animating forces of life, wasn’t so much about looking outside. It was more about taking attention towards the dark inside. And slowly over the years, with practice and discipline, pour the mind into the body. This inward movement is nor selfish or abstracted from the outer world. By the contrary, the living world needs us to be embodied so that to be present - physically, energetically and spiritually.

This way, in 2020 I gained a new training companion. A white pigeon that me and my daughter rescued from the animal center. The pigeon grew very fond of us. And he enjoyed perching on my hand or arm while I practiced still standing outside.

While I settled, the bird settled. If my energy would go up and scatter, the bird would fly away. This simple! Plus, the weight of the bird gave a wonderful counter-pressure to my arm.

This still practice is an internal chi kung method known as Zhan Zhuang (freely translated as standing still like a tree). The kind of connection that arose between me and the bird, was very subtle: mostly silent and mutually felted. Something I recognize from when standing with trees or nurturing a child. There’s clarity when mind settles in the body. And truth that streams from direct experience.

And that’s all that is. Nothing else is needed.

People nowadays tend to associate stillness with some sort of trance or self absorbed state. But standing still this way is very relational and responsive. While I stand still, I am more connected to myself yes, but also with the world around me.

It takes practice and consistency. Attention should not be single-pointed towards something external. Try to do that with a bird - the bird will immediately escape, because this sort of sharp focus reflects the energy of a predator. Quietening the mind by letting the attention soak in the entire body, is a way to settle and relax. As consequence, a fluid space opens up for energy to circulate more freely. And perception widens to include meeting and being met by the outer world.

While standing still, as a daily ritual, I sit at the edge of my senses and thoughts. I try not to take them too seriously. Very often I simply wait. And let the intersection of body and mind to unravel at their own time. A great part of the process, is about dealing with the unknown.

In respect to this matter, I appreciate observing trees in winter time. In the darkest days, a tree stands tall and bare. How is it to stand still like a bare tree, in the dark? Not demanding anything in particular?

I took many years practicing still standing without demands, lists of intentions or beliefs. And I can tell you: it’s a very demanding task to stand in the dark.

Freely and slowly perceiving by intuition, body sensation and spontaneous movement. Bit by bit, the mind enlightens the dark within. One begins to see and discern what is worth of attention and what is not. With it there’s a strengthening of the entire structure of being. The mind and the body cross together. The results? I didn’t got them in my bank account or a certificate. I did however gained followers: animals came closer than ever before and children liked to cluster around me.

I am currently getting ready to move back to Portugal. What still persists from a decade of standing still inside a forest, is a deep-seated energy. This kind of energy you don’t get from food, air or something external. It’s a life-giving energy generated from internal transformation.

At this point in my life, when there’s no longer young children to raise, or when the hormonal landscape of motherhood is ending, reaching out into the unknown has a different tone. Where to direct this long-time brewed subtle skills? What do you think?

I’d love to invite you to explore my online Tree Time Chi Kung, with live classes and workshops. Support your health and movement as a whole. Cultivate the ability to stand with a diversity of perspectives. And practice relating with nature’s cycles, structures and wisdom. Join ancient still and slow movement practices, that ease effort in the body, making sensorial perception, rhythms and flow more accessible and embodied.

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