It is a cruel world for stillness.  In society, it has somehow obtained an unwarranted stigma and is thusly thwarted in everyday lives by deadlines, duties, and days that begin and end in exhaustion.

Studying the art of communication, though, has so radically reworked the manner in which I approach moments of stillness.  Instead of something to be avoided, it is has increasingly become something I long to bask and replenish myself in, for it is in these moments that my most imaginative ideas have the opportunity to tiptoe on in.

This is, in large part, what this month at home is for.

For that reason, it is in this place where the contrast between the green mountains and blue Hawaiian sky have become all the more dynamic.  It is in this place where the swirling of the tropical tradewinds have implored me to a greater appreciation of this place that I call home.  It is in this place where I have learned to go to process the many issues at hand.

Brenda Ueland  ( So You Want to Write) pointed out in regards to always being energetic and active, “Your soul gets frightfully sterile and dry because you are so quick, snappy and efficient about doing one thing after another that you have not time for your own ideas to come in and develop and gently shine” (29).That being so, after a year like this past one–heck, after 17 years of formal schooling, I make no apologies and carry no shame for this Sabbath of a summer, for I have learned that stillness is actually and often times more profitable than merely being busy for the sake of busyness.  Before this, I felt the need to always be doing something or going some place and fast.  It was like sprinting a marathon.  Since then, I have learned to welcome water breaks.