“Only in quiet waters things mirror themselves undistorted. Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world.”–Hans Marggolius
Still Waters 🏞️
I sat observing the waters of the Whitefish River flowing toward stillness–moving from one lake to the next, but in a relaxed state of flow that most often seemed to occur in the early morning or late evening. Occasionally, something would break the surface, and rings would begin spreading outward from the epicenter. When this would happen, I often caught myself holding my breath in anticipation until the last ring dissipated, and the water was once more placid. Then, with the stillness restored, I resumed my own cadence of breathing slow and steady, matching the river’s pulse.
Lake Charlton Camp 🏕️
My husband, John, and I were staying in Charlton Lake Camp (CLC) located in Killarney Provincial Park, Willisville, Ontario. This was our second trip to CLC, situated in a natural showcase of diverse pines, surrounded by the white quartzite crests of the La Cloche Mountains and translucent, tea-stained waters of Charlton Lake, Frood Lake, and Cranberry Lake with the Whitefish River providing a throughway to the lakes. In the morning, CLC was filled with a wilderness chorus of birdsong, loon calls, bull frogs, lapping sounds of water against rocky shores, and, of course, the buzzing hum of countless varieties of insects.
Settling into Quiet 🤫
Breathing in deeply, my lungs filled with the aromatic aromas of pines, damp soil, sunned rock, and a hint of morning coffee as I continued to sit and observe, communing with my surroundings. The sun would soon begin lifting above the craggy cliffs behind the cabin in which we stayed, and life would soon begin stirring with those gleaming rays. But, in that moment, hovering between the hush of night and the dawn of daybreak, there was a stillness in which my heart was soft and open–receptive to that still small voice that resides within.
Slipping into the Gap of peacefulness 😌
I once read that praying is talking to the Divine Creator; whereas, meditation is stilling the mind for the purpose of listening. Sitting there on that screened porch on the cusp of a new day, I was reminded of that idea. My heart, head, and soul had relaxed enough to hear the truth–to really parse the ongoing narratives that, when left unchecked, my brain tends to repeat on an endless loop. By settling into the surrounding peacefulness, I could focus on listening, and begin to see how many of those narratives were (and are) often baseless claims forged by past experiences, trauma, anxiety, negative self-talk/criticism, and even a little fear.
Sitting, breathing calmly, and savoring CLC’s peaceful surroundings through my senses, I found I could let my mind rest easily as if the wheel of ceaseless chatter had ground to stop, or at the very least, slowed its revolution. Taking in a deep breath of the clean, wilderness air, I softened my gaze on the water and continued listening.
Riding the waves of emotional influence🌊
Matching my inner calmness to the stillness of the river led me to a realization. My own mind often mirrors those waters of CLC. My mind tends to be at its calmest in the early morning or at night–just before drifting off to sleep, letting go of the day’s worries. However, once the day fully begins, I am immersed in work and various tasks with multiple decisions being made throughout the day. As my decision making increases, my judging brain kicks into high gear. With that continued judgment comes an inner dialogue often influenced and affected by emotions, which rise and fall throughout the day much like the water around me did during the week.
Throughout our time fishing, resting, and relaxing in CLC, I observed how the river and surrounding lakes could quickly become stirred up, rising and falling with the winds of the day, tossed about with a changing weather front, or even fill with large waves when an occasional boat sped across the waters to the farthest end of a lake. There were additional times, when for no discernable reason, the waters would suddenly ascend and descend, jostling the boat John and I were in.
Restless emotions 😬
Fishing during those moments of restless waters and winds was challenging. The wind would take hold of a perfectly thrown cast and carry the line and lure in a completely different direction than intended. Likewise, when the waters were lifting and dipping with waves, the view beneath the waters was clouded and murky–not allowing the eye to determine if the boat was above rocks, a weed bed, a submerged tree, or any other number of possibilities. Conversely, during the moments of calm, settled waters, navigating and fishing those waters was fairly easy and what was beneath the boat was clearly visible.
The influence of a RAcing Mind 🤯
The riverview before me, in that early morning hour, was emblematic not only of ideal fishing waters, but also a peaceful state of mind. Unfortunately, our modern world tends to create and drive the opposite effect–a constant flurry of stirred-up waters–our minds fidgety and/or frantic, racing from one thought to another, moving through agendas of busyness, entertainment, and avoidance. Therefore, if we don’t set aside time to allow our minds an opportunity to cease its chatter and rest easy, how can we ever feel calm and think clearly?
The importance of intentional Quiet 🤫
Our inner dialogue is often affected by the changing weather of our emotions. Those emotions vacillate and shift with each decision we make and with each event we encounter. And while I fully admit that mind chatter, and all of the emotions that come with it, cannot necessarily be avoided, in similar manner to the weather fronts we experienced during my time at CLC, our emotions can vastly change within the course of a day, much less a week. Therefore, deliberately providing pockets of time for stillness allows us to detach from the emotional narratives, and instead, fosters listening to that still, small voice of knowing, which allows us to, well, “fish” for the truth.
LeT us Listen for the whisper 👂
Ralph Waldo Emerson once penned, “Let us be silent, that we may hear the whisper of God.” What a powerful reminder of the importance of settling the mind, like the still waters that were before me on that morning at Charlton Lake Camp. The type of quiet we choose can be a formal meditation/reflection, but it could also be achieved through walking or other forms of exercise, tending to your flowers/plants, or simply sitting on the porch sipping coffee or tea and listening to the birds. It really doesn’t matter as long as it is an intentional moment set aside to calm those mental waters of ceaselessly, flowing chatter. Prioritizing time for quiet reflection or meditation, however you define it, allows the flow of our hearts and minds to settle, soften, and encounter the “whisper of God.”
Steph Simply 