Back in May of 2020, COVID provided an unexpected opportunity. I had a week carved out to ride my bike to Estes Park CO and teach at a writing conference, then COVID cancelled it. So I subbed in a trip to my beloved Sierras to pull out some trout. I rediscovered why we call it fishing, not catching, because the catching was below mediocre. Maybe pathetic. And from mid-morning to mid-afternoon, it almost totally died. I grew sad drowning nightcrawlers with little result.
A typically day usually sees 6 to 8 hours on the stream, but the 4 days totaled just 9 hours, leaving a lot of flexible time. I chilled in my hammock and read. Did a number of short hikes. Visited streams I’d not fished in years. Honestly, this became one of the best trips ever: immersed in God’s creation and the tall pines and aspen, sleeping next to a softly humming stream. Just thinking and praying and connecting with the Creator. For once, I said no to my relentless pursuit of catching trout.
I brought along John Gierach’s book Fool’s Paradise and found the line, “As far as those dead afternoons I’ve come to think that getting bored only means you’ve failed to master the ‘fine art of doing nothing when there’s nothing to be done.’” I couldn’t help but remember the verse, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. The LORD Almighty is with us” (Psalm 46:10-11). I believe that connection between stillness and His presence.
So, I stilled myself. Focused more on Him than trout. And sensed his presence in a marvelous manner.
Now, here’s the irony. While abandoning “productivity,” that trip brought a large number of practical results: five poems produced, three “Unconventional” posts outlined, a new book idea conceived and developed. And all of this because I finally learned the “fine art of doing nothing when there’s nothing to be done.” The stillness allowed God to speak more clearly. Frankly, I’m not that good at hearing God’s still small voice. I appreciated this exception, and pray they become more frequent.
Kick Starting the Application
How rushed is your life? Do you struggle hearing God’s whispers in the crush? How much do you care about hearing them? Perhaps, like me too often, do you fill your life to avoid being aware of them? I suspect we all find stillness in different ways: what are a couple of steps you can take to encourage being still?