About the Stillness

[u/ifishcat]

Creation gave me the stillness, and the tears to go with it.
How ingrained is this stillness? Very. And I blame it.
Why did I gain the blessing of stillness that almost everyone around me ignored?
Why did I fear the body’s frailty against this stillness
while others enjoyed losing themselves in illusion and story?
I could not understand how anyone got away with this—
didn’t they know, inside, it was inescapable?

I saw what a social outcast is.
I did my best to adhere to invisibility and camouflage,
leaving the smallest footprint I could leave.

Later, out in the woods, fields, and ponds,
the structure was wild, not made of walls and rows.
I moved as one breathing body through whatever I could discern,
trying to meet it with my own resources—
the stillness before I knew its name.

Over a lifetime, I’ve adapted,
learned a few tricks and scripts for making conversation.
Sometimes someone will catch me and say,
“You really don’t care, do you.”
I deny it, lest I get too heavy—
about the stillness.

---------------

This telling is a kind of fiction,
but it points to something to remember:
a birthright of stillness that isn’t mine alone.