The Purgatory of Stillness

One of the most polarizing feelings that I feel sometimes is the crushing and overwhelming realization of the complexities of the world around me, all of the systems (nervous, societal, structural) of everyone and everything within my environment turns into something that is so suddenly magnified in front of my face that it pushes me to the ground with great might. It's akin to putting on prescription glasses for the first time in your life and realizing that the world is this extremely interconnected symbiosis of systems, both in nature and in manmade construction. The individual leaves of trees, the tiny little rocks of asphalt that you used to look past with glossy eyes as your periphery blends into this muck of barely perceptible colours and shapes not unlike a Monet painting.

This feeling occurs in utter stillness, in stillness so still that the natural humdrum of life isn't present. Stillness so still that it is offensively loud, fostering in you a complete inability to concentrate on anything but this persistent state. It's not an objectively bad state to be in nor is it an objectively good state to be in. It is simply a state in which you exist in the middle of two extremes, a sort of purgatory of sorts. What I mean by this is that it is a state so delicate and airy that at any point you can either succumb to complete despair and crushing depression, or you can use it to foster an intense feeling of being connected to the world around you. It's very easy to go whichever way you're naturally predisposed to, and whichever way you're led, you are immediately catapulted into the depths of it. There is never a "tiny" bit of despair or a "tiny" bit of enlightenment, you have no choice but to feel the deepest effects of these polar opposite states.

The thing is, this state isn't something that is ephemeral in it's nature, it's something that persists consistently in the backgrounds of our very psyches. One of the main reasons why we're not always consciously aware of this feeling is because of how many things we layer on top of this basal humanistic feeling throughout our daily lives with the thousand different mundane things that we need to accomplish or do. These routines and responsibilities which consist of being a functional human being within our societies ultimately distract us from our essential existence. This, however, isn't to say that these distractions are particularly negative or bad things. They serve a very real purpose of integrating ourselves within our cultures and societies, an essential component to our survival and general happiness. When we are disenfranchised from society, as in the case of prisoners, lunatics, or social outcasts, a large and sacred part of our humanity as individuals is decoupled and we turn into savaged beasts who belong to no structure or group.

However, as useful as this fitting into a societal structure is, it lays prey to us forgetting who we are as individuals, what the stillness of our hearts feels like and sounds like without the noise of that which is around us. Which brings us back to this discrete feeling. Generally, it is only through deliberate meditative practice or situations where our own mortality is put into the forefront of our attention, such as in a near-death situation or some intensely painful and life-altering news. In the moments when we are unsure of what to make of what just happened, do we get invited to dwell in this purgatory for a time, before our minds make up our minds.

Earlier, I mentioned this capacity to be swayed by whatever you're predisposed to. How you arrive at this state, whether through the budding hints of intense emotional pain or the serenity of deep peace, will dictate where the wind takes you. For instance, in the aftermath of intense heartbreak or loss, you inevitably reach a point of stillness. From there, you may either fall back into the depths of despair (a common response) or begin the slow walk toward acceptance and eventual enlightenment. Conversely, entering this state through meditation, prayer or some other kind of deliberate tranquility such as nature walks makes it more likely you’ll follow the path of enlightenment, avoiding the pull of despair entirely.

It is within this duality, this teetering between complete despair and enlightenment, that the state reveals itself to be an incredible teaching tool. When you deliberately spearhead yourself into this deep stillness that always exists within you, looking through all the superficial blubber that exists on top of it from the distractions mentioned above, are we able to confront the truths that we so desperately try to avoid in our daily lives.

It’s hard to say what comes from this feeling. Sometimes it feels like it’s just there, sitting in your chest, waiting for you to do something with it. But what? I guess that’s the thing about being in this state, it doesn’t tell you what to do, it just holds up a mirror and makes you look. Heartbreak throws you into it, like falling into a cold lake. Meditation lets you walk into it slowly, like stepping into a quiet room. But once you’re there, it doesn’t give you a map. You just have to feel your way through.

Maybe that’s the point. It’s not about figuring out what to do with the feeling but about letting it show you something, about yourself, about the world, about whatever’s underneath all the noise. It’s uncomfortable, yeah. It’s heavy and loud, and sometimes it feels like it’s too much. But maybe that’s where it’s trying to teach you something, not by giving you answers, but by forcing you to sit with the questions. What do you see when you’re there? What do you hear? What do you feel? Maybe it’s not about knowing what comes from this feeling but being willing to find out.