The Teacher Outside My Window

Relearning the Relationship Between Being and Doing

This month, I was planning to continue our conversation about alignment—specifically, how our intuition can work in harmony with our mind, emotions, and body.

But something else kept coming up.

Over the past month, I've had at least four different conversations with people from various walks of life, and each conversation somehow found its way to the same place:

The pressure we carry around doing and busyness...and the guilt we sometimes feel around simply being and becoming still.

Many of us grew up learning—both from our families and from society—that doing is good and being is lazy.

We can actually become addicted to doing. But I think we can also misunderstand stillness and turn being into another form of doing.

And both can eventually lead us to the same painful belief:

Something is wrong with me. I'm not enough. I need to do more.

With doing, the formula can look something like:

Doing →Productivity →Value → Worth → Love

But because there is always something else to accomplish, it can slowly become:

Doing →Never Enough →Work Harder →Productivity Guilt → I'm Not Enough → Something Is Wrong With Me

The same thing can happen with stillness:

Stillness →Lazy → Unproductive → Disappointment → Unworthy of Love → Something Is Wrong With Me

And then we can even put too much doing into being.

•        I need to meditate more.
•        I should be more peaceful by now.
•        Maybe I need another workshop, retreat, book, or spiritual practice.

All of these things can be wonderful. But for me, both doing and being eventually became something I wasn't doing—or being—well enough.

So how do we allow doing and stillness to work in harmony without the guilt, worry, pressure, and constant feeling that we aren't doing or being enough?

These practices have helped me:

Notice the guilt without obeying it. When guilt appears because you're resting, notice it and ask yourself, “What am I afraid will happen if I don't do something right now?”

Practice small periods of intentional being. Give yourself ten minutes to sit, walk, listen to music, or simply look out the window without turning the moment into another task.

Stop making rest something you have to earn. Rest is part of being human, not a reward you receive only after everything is finished.

Let ordinary moments remain ordinary. Drink your coffee without checking email, take a walk without counting steps, or listen to a song without simultaneously trying to accomplish something.

Examine the voice behind the guilt. Ask, “Whose voice is telling me I'm lazy?” An old family, cultural, or societal message doesn't have to remain your agreement today.

Redefine excellence. Instead of measuring your day only by what you accomplished, also ask whether you were present, listened, laughed, noticed beauty, cared for yourself, or connected with someone you love.

Practice receiving without performing. Allow someone to love, appreciate, help, or simply enjoy being with you without immediately needing to give something back or prove your usefulness.

Come back to the present moment. When your mind asks, “What should I be doing?” return to your breath, body, and surroundings and ask, “Is anything actually required of me in this moment?”

These practices do work.

But what truly helped me was finding a Teacher.

I needed to see someone who lived the paradox of doing and stillness. I needed to watch how this Teacher navigated life with balance, ease, conscious intention, peaceful stillness, and present-moment flow.

And I found my Teacher….. Here’s a picture:

This Teacher isn't worried about whether it's accomplishing enough today.

It isn't comparing itself to the tree next to it.

It doesn't feel guilty for standing still.

It simply is.

And yet, in its being, there is tremendous doing.

It takes in sunlight and water. It grows. It gives oxygen. It provides shade and shelter. Through its roots and the ecosystem around it, it participates in relationships with fungi, microorganisms, plants, animals, and the soil.

•        Giving and receiving.
•        Growing and resting.
•        Standing still and constantly changing.
•        Being and doing in harmony.

This Teacher helped me understand something I had been trying to think my way into for years:

Being present and doing don't have to be opposites.

When they are aligned, doing doesn't have to come from anxiety, guilt, fear of failure, or the need to prove our value.

Doing can simply flow from being.

Watching this enlightened Teacher, I began to remember that perhaps we were once like this too—completely in the moment, before we learned to separate being from doing and attach our worth to either one.

My Teacher reminded me that the same natural flow I was admiring in the tree also exists in me.

I am both stillness and doing.

So perhaps I don't have to work so hard to be still.

Perhaps I don't have to constantly do in order to prove that I have value.

You are the stillness and the doing you are trying so hard to achieve.

My Teacher just is.

And perhaps I can learn to just be as well.

Or, in my own slightly unusual way of putting it:

I am.
I are.
I is.

AmAreIs.

And there's a little synchronicity I enjoy in that sound: amaréis in Spanish means “you all will love.”

Maybe that's appropriate.

Because underneath so much of our doing—and sometimes even underneath our desperate attempts at being—is the desire to know that we are valuable, that we are enough, and that we are loved.

Perhaps the answer isn't to become better at doing or even better at being.

Perhaps it's learning to be present enough to allow the two to find their natural rhythm again.

•        Doing without pressure.
  Stillness without guilt.
  Movement without proving.
  Rest without earning.

Like my Teacher...

just being, just doing, just here.

I invite you to join me at our next gathering as we explore the ease and balance of being and doing in the present moment.

We'll talk about the old agreements that keep us busy, the guilt that can make stillness uncomfortable, and how we might begin trusting the natural rhythm already within us.

And maybe, together, we can practice doing a little less trying...

and spend a little more time simply being here.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts—and your experiences.

Join me on Wednesday, October 7th from 6:30pm to 7:30pm PT. 

Invite Link:  https://us02web.zoom.us/j/87814168399 

André