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An Uncluttered Stillness
Willie Nelson is right: still is still moving to me, if it's the right kind of stillness.

Willie Nelson has this philosophical song called “Still Is Still Moving To Me.” I’m not specifically sure if he means that being still is still a way to move, or if he means “moving” in the sense of being emotionally moved by something. Either way makes sense to me.
Sometimes though, being still means being stuck.
The roads I’ve been traveling – both literally and metaphorically -- have become well-defined and predictable. I drive Chris to the train station, then I drive to work, either at my office or back at my house. Sometimes, I drive down to Lisa’s apartment and work from there, occasionally walking her dog Bocephus.
I’ve been thinking about many things since last April. The range of these thoughts is wider than the range of actual roads I’ve driven, but still there has been a certain well of ideas, thoughts, feelings, and emotions to which I have consistently returned.
That’s been my life. Today, though, I strayed from my path, lingering at Valley Forge National Historical Park, rather than driving straight through it.
Nobody else was nearby.
The quiet was comforting and energizing. I have experienced quiet this year, but it hasn’t always been healthy quiet. This uncluttered stillness, though, felt good and necessary.
Willie is right: still can still be moving to me.
~217~