As a yogi, the token namaste that Soul Cycle infuses in its brand irritates me, but I do appreciate the efficiency of a rigorous 45 minute workout. With over 60 days of rain this winter I found myself going to more classes than I would like to admit and now I am somewhat of a regular. At first I found it ridiculous the instructors would try to make spinning on a stationery bike a metaphor for life, yet here I am writing about something my instructor said that truly resonated from Monday’s class. Periodically the instructor will yell out “isolate” which on the spin bike means you keep the legs pedaling while your upper body remains completely still. This is harder than it sounds - the leg muscles burn doing all the work. This week we were isolating for what felt like forever and as they often do, the instructor yelled out,

“Stay in it. There is power in stillness.”

Last week I had lunch with an old friend and he asked me in the wake of my transition from selling my business what I was going to do with my life? This might seem like an offensive question for a woman who works in teacher education, writes a blog, volunteers for numerous non-profit organizations, has three children, cooks family dinner nightly, and manages a pretty big life for herself and her family, but it wasn’t totally unfounded. The abrupt decision to sell meta44 triggered somewhat of a career and by extension, existential crisis and I found myself wondering the same. What should I do next? With that question in mind and a million ideas swirling in my head I hired a career coach and for the past few months she has guided me through conversations and assessments that forced me to look closely at my values, strengths, interests, work habits and the way I spend my time. It has been a highly valuable exercise in self-exploration and understanding the importance of meaningful work in my life.

In this search of what next it wasn’t completely surprising to discover that the work I already do does in fact align with my values, feels meaningful, and gives me a sense of purpose. Could it be possible that I already do enough? And instead of adding something else, could I simply lean in deeper on the work I already do? Marc Lesser, who writes about the perils of a busy life, argues that doing too much makes you feel distracted and scattered and hinders your ability to accomplish more of what matters to you. Maybe doing less is more.

Furthermore, as a byproduct, the letting go of worrying about what I should be doing, and allowing myself to simply focus on what I do created an opportunity for my mind to rest which reminded me how true it is - only in that quiet space can you actually hear what your mind is trying to tell you.

And in my choice to just stay in it, I am finding the power of stillness.