“The earth has music for those who listen.” – George Santayana

Last night as I stood on the front porch watching the sunset with my mom, antelope pranced in the distance – their littles weaving through the golden grass in a game of chase. The wind was clam. The sky shifted slowly, effortlessly, from blue to honeyed orange. All around me, and within me, I felt still.

Stillness kept entering my mind. Not the forced kind – not the silence that comes from holding your breath or trying to escape a loud day – but a soft, rooted stillness. This peace felt like an exhale. I felt as if the land was inviting me to stop moving and just be.

I feel like these moments don’t come often, or maybe they do and I just don’t take the time to notice them. I am learning that stillness isn’t just about the absence of noise or motion – it’s about attention. Listening. Letting yourself me present in the moment, rather than rushing to the next.

In the quiet, I realized how often I fight stillness. How I fill space with scrolling, planning, and doing. But the earth doesn’t rush. Grass doesn’t grow faster because we stopped to watch it.

What if stillness is a kind of remembering – a return to something deeper.

Stillness continues to teach me. It teaches me that I don’t have to hustle to belong. That I’m already held – by the sky, by the ground beneath my feet, by something greater than myself. It reminds me that I don’t have to have all the answers right away. That waiting, pausing, is not a weakness, but wisdom. In stillness, I am reminded that I am not in control of most things, and somehow, that brings more comfort than it does fear.

Most importantly, stillness teaches me to return. Return to the present moment. Return to the body I so often push to the limits. Return to the truth that I am not separate from the world around me – I am part of it. Just like the antelope, I , too, belong to the quiet fields and slow sunsets and open skies.

How do you experience stillness?

With joy,

Sage