The Art of Sitting Still: Lessons from Terlingua and Beyond

Have a seat. Sit for a moment. No phones. No to-do lists.

Now, imagine you’re in the ghost town of Terlingua, Texas. We’re sitting outside the Starlight Theater. The air is dry, the sun casts long shadows, and a few benches invite us to sit and to stay awhile.

Nearby, there’s a store to wander through, maybe a beer to sip, and strangers to strike up a conversation with. Oh, and hula hoops. Lots of them. Watching kids—and their parents—give them a spin is a simple joy. Encouraging someone to try, even better.

This isn’t just a ghost town. It’s a lesson in presence.

Big Bend, Big Quiet

Terlingua sits on the edge of Big Bend National Park, a place of sprawling desert landscapes and rugged beauty. Once an old west, mercury mining town, it’s now a place where the echoes of history mingle with the whisper of the wind.

Ghost towns like Terlingua aren’t just relics—they’re reminders. Life slows down here. And that’s a good thing.

In Big Bend, time bends too. Hikes become meditations. The Rio Grande flows like an ancient metronome, ticking away centuries. Sitting under the stars—some of the darkest skies in the country—feels like a reset button for the soul.

Fishing with Poppy

This stillness reminds me of visiting my grandfather, Poppy. After college finals, I’d head out to the piney woods of Southeast Texas countryside to go fishing. Not the fancy kind—like fly fishing or bass fishing with lures and expensive rods, but the “meat on a hook, bobber on the water” kind fishing. The kind where you click the button on the Zebco reel, watch the bait, hook and bobber go sailing through the air, then turn the reel once or twice for it click back in place. Then you wait.

The first few days were always tough—my brain buzzing with end-of-semester stress and work stress. The deadlines. The places to be. But the rhythm of fishing would eventually work its magic.

The breeze. The sounds of the river. The occasional thrill of a bite. Poppy’s stories—about his garden, domino games and family events (life lessons learned) during the Great Depression. All of it reminded me to breathe. To listen. To just be.

The Philosophy of a Porch

Sitting still isn’t a waste of time. It’s an investment. It’s where creativity sparks, memories resurface, and connections deepen.

Whether it’s a porch in Terlingua, a riverbank with a fishing rod, or your own backyard, stillness is transformative. The key? No devices. No distractions. Just being.

Talk to the person next to you. Or don’t. Watch the birds. Feel the sun on your face. Let your mind wander.

A Challenge

Find your version of Terlingua. Maybe it’s not a ghost town or a fishing spot. Maybe it’s a park bench, a front porch, or a coffee shop window seat.

Sit. Stay. Absorb.

Let the world come to you.

Because sometimes, the best way to move forward is to stay still.