Dear INFJ forum, Please help me learn to sit in silence. Being quiet - not talking and being alone - is easy. Being silent and present with a peaceful heart is not. Can you do this? Have fellow Ne/Ni doms mastered this? What are your methods? I live in the forest and I want to become a wildlife photographer. This means I will need to wander into the woods and sit in silence, mindfully listening and watching the forest around me for hours. I have always practiced a sort of "lost in Ni, cranking up Se" balance in the forest. It is a place to think, get lost in deep thought, and simultaneously stay alert. If I want to capture wildlife I must stay alert, but also quiet. More than this, I need to cultivate peacefulness. Animals are often drawn to me and pick me out as a person to get close to, but not always, and wild animals are, of course, afraid. My INFP friend who is a wildlife photographer seems to have a peacefulness about him that earns trust. The animals know he won't harm them. While my mind is whirring, it seems that I am incapable of presenting this kind of peacefulness, but I think meditation will take me away from the present moment I need to be in to be ready to click the shutter. I've started wandering the forest without my dogs. (Today was the day because if I hadn't had my dogs yesterday, I would have seen a moose!) Today I set up some trail cams in spots I know wildlife travel. I sat in the woods for about half an hour, listening to the birds, listening to the faint jingle of the bell on my neighbor's dog's collar far in the distance, listening to the logging equipment many miles away, listening to every crack and snap of branches. After a while I noticed an owl feather. (I laughed at myself for my big picture brain that sometimes takes a little while to notice small details.) Sometimes when I'm in the forest and my dogs and I sit down it is so quiet I can hear my own heartbeat from the outside of my body. Thu-thump, thu-thump. Today was louder, but still so quiet, and I wonder how anything ever 'sneaks' in the forest. I gave up because there were no fresh tracks, which meant the likelihood that an animal would come by was slimmer (plus, my dogs were in these woods two days ago and that always frightens the animals off for a bit), because I had to be somewhere at noon, and because being present in the moment is something I prefer to do in short bursts. I really prefer to be lost in my head.