How to Be a Human Being
How to “Do” as a Being
Have you ever noticed how exhausting it is to always be “doing”?
Our calendars overflow with tasks, our minds race with to-do lists, and even our rest becomes another item to check off.
“ME-time,” they call it when we shut the door on our labors, and head out to watch a grandson play football – as if adding another label somehow makes it more worthwhile.
But what if we’re missing something deeper?
Last week, I found myself sitting in my recliner, an unread novel beside me. (Reading is what I love to do in my ME-time).
I had meant to take a quick break between writing projects, maybe get lost in someone else’s mystery (or horror) story.
Instead, I watched two squirrels chase each other around a stump in the back yard. Their movements created ripples of peace in my busy mind. I wasn’t doing anything. I wasn’t even trying to relax. I was simply… being.
Redefining Rest
True rest isn’t about escaping into Netflix binges or treating ourselves to spa days – though those things can be lovely.
Real rest happens in those in-between moments when we stop trying so hard.
It’s the sacred pause between breaths, the quiet space where we remember who we are beneath all our doing.
Think of it like this: when you were a child, did you ever lie in the grass and watch clouds drift overhead?
You weren’t trying to achieve anything. You weren’t even trying to relax.
You were simply present, part of the vast sky and changing shapes above. That’s what I call “BE-time” – those precious moments when we stop performing life and start living it.
Many of us learned early that our worth comes from what we accomplish.
But here’s a truth I’m still learning: No one is impressed by my busy calendar. Not even God.
Spirit meets us in the pauses, in the small moments when we set down our doing and allow ourselves to be.
The Wisdom of Stillness
Just outside my office window, an old oak tree stands guard. I’ve watched it through all seasons – spring awakening, summer fullness, autumn glory, and winter rest.
I have never seen it straining to grow or rushing to shed its leaves. It simply is, rooted deep in the wisdom of natural rhythms.
Nature teaches us a profound truth: being precedes doing.
A seed doesn’t force itself to become a flower.
A river doesn’t push itself to flow.
They simply unfold as they were meant to, moment by moment.
We can find holy ground anywhere if we’re willing to pause and notice.
Maybe it’s in the steam rising from your morning coffee or the way shadows dance across your living room wall.
These aren’t interruptions to your spiritual life – they are your spiritual life, waiting to be recognized.
I’ve learned that silence isn’t empty – it’s full of invitation.
When I stop filling every moment with noise or activity, something shifts.
The world opens up.
I notice the space between my thoughts, like the space between musical notes that makes a melody beautiful.
From Me-Time to Be-Time
Here’s the truth that changed everything for me: ME-time often becomes another form of doing.
I schedule it, plan it, and worry about doing it right.
But BE-time? It’s about letting go of all that striving. It’s permission to simply exist, exactly as I am.
Think of a child playing in puddles after rain. They’re not trying to improve themselves or check “puddle-jumping” off a list.
They’re fully present in the joy of being alive. That’s what we’re seeking – not another self-improvement project, but a return to that natural state of wonder.
I visited a friend in a nursing home the other day. Her mind is clear, but at 92, her body is beginning its homeward journey.
She turned her brown eyes toward me and said, “I can’t do anything anymore. I have lost my purpose.”
I held her hand and followed her eyes that were focused on Dekker, my service dog, as he snored quietly at my feet.
And in that moment, something shifted.
We weren’t doing. We were being.
And in that being, purpose revealed itself: sometimes our greatest gift is simply showing up, fully present to the sacred now.
Practical Pathways
So how do we begin? Start small. Very small. Here are some suggestions:
Sit in your favorite chair and watch the light change.
Don’t try to meditate. Don’t try to clear your mind.
Just notice what’s already there. Like the kid lying in the grass watching the clouds go by.
When you wake up let yourself hover in that space between sleep and doing.
Hear the morning birds without naming them. Feel the air on your skin without judging if it’s too hot or cold.
These moments aren’t separate from our spiritual life – they are our spiritual life.
The Sacred Invitation
As I write this, my dog, Dekker stood up, turned around three times, and has settled back in a slightly different direction. He spends his life ‘being’ a dog.
The sacred invitation is to pause when you awaken in the morning or type the last period on a letter you have been writing. It is an invitation to ‘BE’—to be present to what is.
This week, I invite you to notice where being already lives in your day.
Where do you naturally slow down?
What moments call you into presence? Write them down. Share them here if you’d like.
Let’s create a community of ‘being’ together.
Remember: you don’t have to earn stillness. You don’t have to perfect presence.
You simply have to show up, again and again, to the holy ground of now.
When you share your experience in the comments below, your journey might be exactly what another reader needs to hear.
If you would like read more of TheReflectivePen,
tell us where to send it!
