Few years ago my Canadian mother Shirley gave me a prescious piece of advice: when in disstress just sit still, do nothing and wait for the storm to calm down. Sounds good but for me it was counterintuitive. Obviously, I thought back then, action is the response to crisis; something has to be done to get rid of an unpleasant situation or troubling thoughts. It was a very difficult time for me back than and I dodn't have quite an idea how to prevent the uncomfortable which led me to trying to sit as the last resource. Sitting turned out to be a difficult practice though it doesn't look like it. Sitting still required calming my mind - the order far taller than just immobilising my body. Though I could control my limbs, it was far more complicated to control the speeding train of thoughts that appeared with bodily stillness. I've been practicing sitting ever since and however it gets a bit easier, not responding to disturbing thoughts is still a challenge.
I'm in a beautiful place now - a perfect one for sitting and relaxing. My beach house faces the sea, the sound of waves wakes me up in the morning and takes me to sleep at night. It's perfect, it's magical. It doesn't get better than this. It's a perfect place to sit.
I'm on the porch, the sea in front of me. The water gently enters the beach. I sit. The moment I immerse in stillness, my brain starts a race.
"How do you think this all will work out? How will you bring up this girl?", I hear. I sit. I don' t move. I don't respond to the voice. I know it too well. It demands answers like an perdistent interrogator. And I have no answers. So I don't respond. But the voice doesn't give up. "Who do you think you are?", it demands. "Obviously, you didn't think all this through. You and your petty mentality. Women all over the eorld have abortions and survive. But you had to stand up for yourself. You stubborn woman. Now you'll have it. Enjoy your holiday! You might not have another one for a long time. Ha, ha, ha!!!", the voice is mocking me. I accept what is says but I don't argue. I know that whatever I'll say the Voice knows better, it's got the answers. It feeds on defensiveness. I have no energy to defend myself. I'm sitting still. The Voice is there. I hear it in the left ear, then in the right one. It is trying to attack me from behind. It is jumping on my head. "Answer me", it cries. I'm sitting still. The Voice is getting more and more frustrated with the lack of my response. I still can hear it but a bit less. It's getting tired. It's not giving up, maybe it'll provoke me... I'm sitting still. My attention goes towards the sea and waves. I'd rather listen to the world which whispers to me: "Don't be scared. I'm with you." The Voice of the interrogator disappears for know. I know it'll be back trying to throw me into anxiety and despair. Till next time Voice. I'll be sitting here waiting for you in peace.