This is the Stillpoint
It happens quietly. No effort, no arrival.
The body is moving — walking, dancing, stirring a pot — and yet something underneath is utterly still. The rhythm evens out. The breath stops trying. The world keeps turning, but the center no longer moves.
It isn’t peace as in nothingness. It’s peace as in everything belongs. The sound of wind, the ache in the back, the hum of a street somewhere far away — all of it folds into one unbroken pulse.
In that pulse, you remember what the body knew before thought began: that stillness isn’t the absence of motion, but its origin. Every gesture begins here, every return ends here.
You don’t stay there. You don’t have to. The stillpoint travels with you — in your hands, in your eyes, in the breath between words.
You realize it isn’t a place at all.
It’s the pause that moves through you.
You know that restless feeling that something’s missing, that things could be different? I call that ache, and I believe it’s the most fundamental human experience.
We feel separate but long for wholeness. That same ache that drives us to seek love or create art is also what drives entire social movements.
The real question is whether we use it to open life up—or to shut it down.
My work traces how this ache becomes gravity. The way attention organizes bodies, stories, and cultures. Through embodied practice, psychological inquiry, and mythic imagination, I teach people to recognize ache not as pathology, but as a compass. Ache is how the body tells time, how memory and longing fold into the present, and how collective futures are woven.
I study how time lives in the body, and how the stories we tell can reshape both personal lives and shared worlds. In my teaching, writing, and workshops, I help people learn to sense, name, and create with the ache, so that what feels like lack becomes an opening toward connection, creativity, and liberation.
About Me
My Philosophy of Peace
I believe peace is in the deep structure of the psyche, and in the way our lives hold together like a constellation. It’s not balance in a bland sense , it’s more akin to gravity—a pull. Something in us feels, and that feeling is best described as an ache. It is like a reach from within that seemingly bends our outer realities. The psyche is less like a machine and more like a solar system: desires, wounds, and longings circling a hidden sun.
Narrative is how we pattern what seems random and how we turn ache into a story. Every time I listen to someone, I’m watching for the stories they already live by and the beliefs they already orbit. Our stories and narratives are derived from the archetypal myths of our existence. I like to remind clients that the ache is creation, the path is meaningful, and peace is real.
Beneath all of us is the same truth…humanity’s ache is always a search for the Other, a witness, a third presence- God...
Whether we call it art, love, addiction, power, devotion — all of it is the same pull. All of it is gravity becoming creation. My work is to help people notice it, map it, name it, so they can stop resisting the path forward and instead learn to live inside of it.
Contact Me
Every conversation begins with a pull—something that wants to be spoken, explored, or tuned. If you feel it, I’d love to hear from you.
I welcome messages about:
Collaborations, speaking, and workshops
Questions about my writing or teaching
Reflections, resonance, or stories you’d like to share
Questions about one on one work, readings or somatic therapies
You can reach me directly at beccasutter8@gmail.com or use the form below. I read every message, even if it takes me some time to respond.
Attention is gravity—where we place it, new pathways form.
Thank you for choosing to place yours here.
