Moments of Non-Reflection: Just Being
This has been a long month for me... I think. And here is where I could spend pages trying to figure out why. But in doing so, I realize that’s part of the problem. This month has been a constant cycle of thinking. Overthinking. Thinking about overthinking. Overwhelmed by life, yet feeling strangely underwhelmed by any answers or actions that might come. So, I sat and tried to think about how to change things. And then I thought… God, I’m exhausted. So, I stopped. And as we head into April, I plan to stop more.
This got me thinking about the origins of April itself. Some believe the name comes from the Latin word aperire, meaning “to open”—symbolizing the earth waking up after the cold of winter. Normally, this would push me toward action and growth. But when I look at the buds on trees, I see that they stay still and patient before they open to the world. They sit. They wait. They listen to nature. And I’m reminded of how powerful moments of stillness can be, especially when everything around us feels like it’s rushing forward.
Pictured: Ann Kelsey at the Special Services Library, her workplace when she didn’t have her quite moments at the laundromat. Vietnam 1970; courtesy of Ann Kelsey.
In reflecting on this, I remember the women I’ve interviewed about their “days off.” One, in the middle of a war zone; another, deep into a three-week archaeological dig—both found moments of stillness when I least expected it. One went to the laundromat and just sat. Another took out her guitar and just played. These small, quiet moments became their form of self-care amid chaos.
Frida Kahlo’s story brings this all into focus: after a traumatic accident left her bedridden, she found strength in solitude, turning to painting as a form of expression. The physical isolation she endured led her to develop a new depth of self-awareness. Her self-portraits became a way to explore and communicate her pain, her identity, and her emotional landscape. Despite the agony she faced, Frida found solace in the act of creation, revealing that moments of stillness and reflection—however painful—could be transformative. Virginia Woolf, in A Room of One’s Own, recognized that true creativity comes from solitude and quiet reflection, though she also acknowledged how hard it can be to find that peace. As she put it, “I have a room of my own, and in that room, I can breathe.”
So, this April, I’m hoping to spend more time just… sitting. Taking time out with no expectations, except to pause, breathe, and take a moment away from everything. Not to think, not to fix anything, but simply to take a time-out and just be.
When was the last time you just sat?
