What do you think of when you hear the words A Still Life?
A bowl of fruit? A serene person, undisturbed by the world's noise. Stagnation and stuckness. The quiet, hope-filled whisper that reminds you that no matter how it feels or where you are right now, you still have life within you. Another chapter waiting to be written.
We've been reading Josie George’s memoir, A Still Life, in The Haven book club. After Josie joined us at last weekend's discussion, I’ve been reflecting on the meaning of stillness and its many forms and flavours. It's a fascinating word to think about!
In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we explore the layers of stillness in the book. From the stifling slowness imposed by illness or circumstance, to the deep, peaceful resilience that absorbs life’s ripples without breaking. Stillness can be a captured moment in art, a book, or a song. It's a framed snapshot in time.
https://youtu.be/dTHv2AhDDpI
The Noise of Shallow Rivers vs. the Depth of Still Waters
There’s an old proverb: "Shallow rivers are noisy. Deep lakes are silent." I recently heard a deep lake that was anything but silent but 🤫, I'll try not to undermine the metapho!) Here's that noisy lake if you're interested.
https://soundcloud.com/andymort/the-ice-speaks-sounds-from-a-frozen-lake?si=e0700c22185544feb88c55e301a994ec&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
A noisy life might be shallow, and a shallow life can be noisy. Distractions bombard us. A flow of news to react to, unexpected notifications, and endless demands sweep us downriver without control. But stillness isn’t just about silence. It can also be unwanted: feeling stuck in the reeds, thrashing against stagnation, longing to move but unable to for various reasons.
Josie’s memoir sits at this intersection. Her "still life" is informed by a chronic, mysterious illness that requires daily rest to stay near "any kind of wellness." Yet her story isn’t about overcoming this adversity. The obstacle isn't the way. The obstacle is an obstacle. And yet, Josie finds ways to live despite it.
A Memoir Without a Blueprint
Most personal development books follow a formula:
I faced a challenge.
I conquered it.
Here’s how you can too.
Josie’s book gently subverts that framework. There’s no cure, no tidy resolution or subversive workaround. Instead, it is a poetic, honest snapshot of a life filled with pain, joy, and quiet connection. It doesn’t tell readers how to feel or what to think. Instead, it invites us to rest in her perspective, to witness her seasons and spirals.
"A book can sit on your shelf, unread, underestimated for years, and when you finally pick it up, you find it changes you. It was always going to, one day. You can live with yourself in much the same way."
This idea resonates deeply. How many unread books (proverbial or otherwise) await the right moment to transform us? We can't force them, but we can wait.
Truth, Visibility, and the Courage to Be Seen
One passage from the book struck a bunch of us in the book club:
"Either I believe that illness, pain, and our naturally chaotic minds are something undesirable and shameful—and so hide myself—or I don’t. And oh God, I don’t. If I don’t, then I have to start being braver with my visibility and my truth.
Truth, in this sense, doesn't stay still. It shifts as we grow, and so do the stories we tell about ourselves. Not because the stories change, but because we do.
Stillness as Rebellion
"Being someone who rests in a world that glorifies work above all else, is to be an alien among your own kind."
Josie's stillness is a gentle rebellion. Despite many systemic barriers, it's a commitment to joy, curiosity, and creativity. She doesn’t spin pain into a "gift" or preach toxic positivity. Instead, she offers this metaphor:
"I am not the weather. I am the wide and open sky, and so I can let pain move through me and out of...