today we stay
a small (recorded, meditative) offering, a quick contemplation, some poetry & prose
“Be a light unto yourself; betake yourselves to no external refuge.” - Buddha
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the practice
“All men's miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone.” — Blaise Pascal
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Hello friends, Today I want to offer us something different - less words and just more feeling. I was thinking about how much worry and tension and fear we are carrying with us in our bodies in this moment. In this moment…
it’s been a while now and I don’t know if things will get easier. I’m thinking they probably won’t. But we can take moments to find ease. We must take moments to find ease.
So I invite you to stay with me just for a few minutes. Take a position that you prefer. You can lay down on your belly, on your back. You can sit upright. You could sit in a chair. You could stand just where you are right now.
If it feels comfortable you close your eyes. But if it doesn’t you can keep your eyes open. And just try to go within just for a second… a moment. Maybe you hear, I have noise in my background. But even though the world is noisy around us it doesn’t mean that we can’t take a moment and find silence within. So stay here with me.
Take a deep breath in, a deep breath out. Let go of what was before. Let go of what will be when we leave each other today. And just be here now. Give some love to this body, this body that carries it all with it all day long, sometimes even during the night. Be with your breath.
As you breathe
maybe you add some loving words to yourself. I love you. I love you body. I trust you. I hold you. I am going to care for you today.
keep breathing
As we start to come back, maybe we want to add an intention for our day - to go slower, to pay more attention, to take another pause, to trust. Set your intention now. Feel it in your whole body. And maybe say it again: I love you body. I am here.
If you had your eyes closed, take a deep breath in, and on the outbreath, reopen them, maybe trying to stay within even as you look out into the world.
We have so much going on right now in our external world and we carry it with us inside. It is so important to take moments to let it go. So this is what I offer us today.
Maybe give yourself a squeeze, a hug. Those hugs are so important. Sometimes we don’t have another person to give it to us. We have to give it to ourselves. I’m sending you a hug today. My heart is reaching out towards yours. I love you. Namaste.
Keeping Quiet by Pablo Neruda1
contemplation
What happens when we stay, not because it is easy but because it is something we can choose to do for ourselves? Learning to stay takes up much of our living practice. How often do we want to be there instead of here, doing that instead of this, with him/her/them/it instead of who and what is right in front of us? And how much stress and anxiety does this bring?
When we practice staying with this breath and this breath and this breath, we are practicing something that will help us with every experience of Life. It is a practice of remembering and returning to abundance. Because even the things we wish were not so are experiencd better when we stay with them, when we learn not to resist.
Stay Stay with the joy a moment more Stay with the sorrow for a longer second Stay with the dew before it fades Stay with the new experience itching like coarse wool under your skin Stay because it is here and it is yours.
Staying is very much choosing how we want to feel afterwards; when it feels impossible, we anticipate what staying will leave us with. We feel stronger, more satisfied when we stay with the joy, the love, the gratitude, the patience, the compassion (why do we rush past goodness? i remind us that we are worthy of The Rejoice.) and also the pain, the grief, the anger… all our emotions want to be acknowledged, to hear from us, “you matter. I will not run, hide, ignore you anymore.” And when they hear this, they soften just as we soften when we feel loved and cared for.
The way is quite simple, but in this fast-paced, ‘disassociate from everything, and distract yourself with toxic food, drug, entertainment, activity, news, and company’ lifestyle, it feels complicated, uneasy, extreme, terrifying.
But all we have to do is stay. Be good company for ourselves.
“Why are you so afraid of silence, silence is the root of everything. If you spiral into its void, a hundred voices will thunder messages you long to hear.” — Rumi
We do a simple practice like the one we did together today and we do it again and again, and one day we notice that we are no longer trying to escape our life. Any of it. We may not always like it, but we are okay with where we are. It is valuable. We know that it will be alchemized into something meaningful. And this brings us a great sense of peace.
Even if nothing changes on the outside, we changed on the inside. We did this. And it is magnificent. No magic. No complicated routine. (There is enough complicated, right Susan J Hilger?)
It begins and ends with one breath. One decision. I want to be here. I am going to stay. I can enjoy this. I create breath and presence, beauty and life. I will not miss a thing.
In Silence by Thomas Merton2
the reminder
be. here. now. with yourself. it is a wonderful place to be. it is something you own. Like my friend, Karen Salmansohn says, be pro-you.
“How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake... myself being myself.” — Virginia Woolf
Can you say this: I enjoy my own company?
Sitting with yourself is not lonely. Not even when you are in the ugliest state. It is never empty, never a disconnected space. We have forgotten. But it waits intimately in our memory.
Can we teach this to our children, our loved ones? How much would be filled, patched up, remedied, restored? The art of staying. Being. Not constantly disengaging. Relearning the bliss of solitude; it is peaceful, invigorating, healing.
The hidden beauty of solitude? When we do join others, we are more beautiful together.
Today I stay…
simple, soft, unbinded, loose, open, creative, gentle, kind, tender, visceral, unvarnished, honest, in love, aware. breathing…
Today, I remember how to stay with it all, I know how to be completely and deeply with myself.
give yourself another hug - if not you first, then who?
love and more love, xo Danni
more nourishment - words that I want to stay with
Let me know which one you will be sitting with a bit longer today.
Susan J Hilger, from her essay, Why Don’t We Slow Down and Simplify?
“I don’t know if any of us can easily regulate in the midst of running from one thing to another. I know I don’t do this well. I’ve actually felt many times that rushing is a trigger for me and I don’t make the best decisions. It makes so much more sense to slow it all down, making it easy to respond rather than react. So why don’t we? Why do we resist doing the exact thing that brings us peace?”
Michelle Dowd, from her essay, Stay
“Every day, I choose a song, without overthinking it, something that fits my mood. And then I press play and dance until it ends. Some days it’s awkward. Some days I disappear into it. Most days it’s somewhere in between… choose something, and meet it daily. Not to achieve. Just to see what happens if you stay… Any art form can do that. Any creative act we stay with can take us somewhere else, somewhere we may still need to go.”
Summer Koester, from her essay, Brutal Tongues
“I write at my kitchen table, stolen time between teaching and crying and dinner and bedtime, just trying to keep my brain from falling out of my eyes. Even if I remain trapped, there is liberation in the writing — flying away from finish lines like a bird in my dreams.”
Jocelyn Lovelle, from her essay, On My Knees At An Altar Built Entirely of Wonder
“I often get inspirations or clear messages when I swim in cold water… It takes a moment for the water to soak through the layers of sneaker and sock and at first, I always think, this isn’t so cold. And then it hits, that shock as I creep in. I’ve learned, the slower I go, the longer it takes to remember how much I love the ache in my bones, in my skull, inside my ears.”
Justyna Teresa Cyrankiewicz, from her essay, In Dwelling, Live Close to the Ground
“I drank full from each day, and learned and learned and learned. What a joy it is to be a student!”
“I choose to camp by the forest near my family’s house, where I am currently visiting. Living close to the ground, learning what minimum resources I need to feel well and supported. I go on barefoot runs; it is a good practice of mindfulness in motion — when distracted, feedback is immediate, and it comes in the form of a sharp stone or a spiky plant pressing against the bare sole of the foot. It both enlivens and calls for careful attention.”
Sam DeCosmo, from her essay, I’d Tell Her To Stay (shared by Christopher Carazas)
“Most of all, I would tell her to stay. Stay for the answers she hasn’t found yet. Stay for the people she hasn’t met yet. Stay for the words she hasn’t written yet. Stay for the life she cannot imagine from where she is sitting. Because that day in July 2018 was not the end of my story. It was the beginning of my journey back to myself.”
Mesa Fama, from her essay, Stay Tender (sharing words from megan falley)
“Stay tender… I’m trying. I’m trying so damn hard. Swimming against currents that aren’t even mine. The only life vest I can find are words I didn’t write.
Stay tender… A mantra. Refrain. Oxygen.
Love speaks through us all. May we remember to listen. I’m trying. So damn hard. Does anyone have an easy button to lend What about a way out of the in?
Listen…”
Duane Toops, from his essay, Beneath the clatter
“It arrives without grandeur. Requires no elaborate spiritual practice. No candles or confessions. No prerequisites or bargaining tactics. It’s a soft kind of recognition. A noticing you hadn’t imagined. You’re still here. The world hasn’t ended. The universe hasn’t collapsed yet. This is where and how gratitude happens. You find the will to whisper the words “thank you”, even in grief, even in loss and sadness, and that’s all that matters.”
Kimberlee Murray on Notes
“Ancient philosophers weren’t calmer than we are. They just didn’t have podcasts, Instagram accounts, therapists and Reddit threads dedicated to abstract explanations about why they felt the way they felt. We’ve built an entire industry around processing feelings at arm’s length.”
Sage Justice on Notes
“Instead of deny what is real in the name of beauty, we must make poetry from ugly truths. Whether it’s our personal health or financial challenges or gun violence, AI, or the patriarchy— the answer is alchemy.”
Lila Sterling, from her essay, I Had To Leave Healing to ‘Heal’
“What surprises me most is how much healing seems to arise not through effort, but through loving kindness and allowing. The body softens when it no longer feels opposed. The mind relaxes when it is no longer treated as an enemy. What once appeared as resistance is often revealed to be a longing for safety, understanding, and belonging.”
and if you missed these gems from the Bare HEARTS series
(tap on Bare HEARTS to see all 12 conversations)
Today, home feels like a teacup full of stillness, a book with dog eared pages, and a heart that has stopped searching long enough to listen to the birds. For today, that is more than enough." 🌸🍵
Danni, the phrase “be good company for ourselves” feels like the quiet center of this offering. I appreciate how you frame staying as a practice of presence rather than endurance alone, because so much of modern life trains us to escape, distract, scroll, rush, or leave ourselves behind whenever discomfort appears. The invitation to stay with joy, sorrow, gratitude, grief, anger, and breath gives dignity to the whole interior life, not only the parts that feel peaceful or polished. I was especially moved by the reminder that even when nothing changes outside us, something can change within us when we choose to remain present. Grateful for the softness and steadiness here, and for the reminder that one breath, one pause, one honest return to ourselves can become a way of living.