~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
In the blink of an eye, it all could be gone.
And from the looks of things,
the possibility looms large.
But come what may, this scene,
strewn with its countless emerald gifts,
is imprinted on my soul and will sing
the One Song beyond the edge of time.
How can we keep our balance and our sanity when the world seems insane?
I’ve been asking myself that question all week as I watched the news about the devastation wrought by Hurricane Helene.
Then, as I sat down to gather the thoughts I want to share with you, I learned that a second storm is heading for Florida and is predicted to reach hurricane level before reaching landfall mid week.
And that’s not the only news coming across the airwaves. I’m hearing of intense missile attacks on Israel as I write.
We live in perilous times.
In the face of all that we’re confronting, I want to share two pieces of practical advice that I hope will be of value to you.
Facing Emergencies
The first is about what to do when you’re personally confronting an emergency. I read it in a book on self-hypnosis I borrowed from the library when I was a kid.
“Memorize this,” the book said. “Repeat it over and over whenever you can. Then it will be there for you when you need it.”
I did what it said, and I can truly say that it probably saved my life more than once. It’s a little chant that goes like this:
Relax.
Think Fast.
Do What is Necessary.
Please commit those simple words to memory. And practice releasing tension from all your muscles as you do. See what it feels like to be relaxed and totally aware of your surroundings at the same time.
(As a bonus, I’ll add a bit of counsel from Fred Rogers. “Whenever you’re in trouble,” he said. “Always look for the helpers.” That’s one worth tucking in your pocket, too.)
Dealing with Catastrophe
The second offering I have for you is about how to get through life when the world seems to be collapsing all around us.
Back when the Twin Towers were destroyed in 2001, one of the pioneers in the field of positive psychology took a look at how her students had fared during the crisis.
She found that they fared well. They had learned that it was healthy to be honest with themselves about their feelings and they paid attention to their sorrow, and shock, and grief.
But they also payed attention to the acts of courage, and heroism, and kindness that they saw and gave emphasis to them in their recall of the events.
They looked to their personal strengths and found ways to use them to help themselves and others deal with the trauma.
Resiliency is founded in paying attention to the needs of those around us and to giving comfort and help where we can.
The key is to lean into the wind of misfortune and let it awaken us to our shared humanity, to offer assistance where we can, to lend our strength to the weak, and to dare to believe in our strength and resilience. Because they’re real, you know. Humans find ways to rise to the challenges before them.
I stumbled on a quote this week that said, “It is what it is . . . but it will become what you make of it.”
Whatever situation you’re facing, whether it’s painful empathy for the misfortunes of others or for misfortune of your own, you can use the situation to find and express the highest and best in yourself. And remember, the highest and best is always rooted in love—for yourself, for your fellow beings, for the gift of life itself in all its pain and all its glory.
May you be safe and well.
From my heart,
Susan
Image by Edyta Stawiarska from Pixabay
Trees get to dance, you know.
I’ve seen them with my own eyes
even though they instantly stop
and pretend they were rooted all along.
I caught this one today, decked out
in his viney autumn garb, chanting
the ancient songs of harvest,
of reaping and gathering in.
He was wonderful, and so still when
he spotted me that no part of him moved,
only the vine wound around him
fluttering in the dry breeze.
I walked on, pretending I believed
he was nothing more than the
broken trunk of a weathered tree.
But the song of his spirit followed me
across the whole, broad valley.
There they lie, empty, fallen forms,
floating on light,
their days of summer suddenly gone
and all too soon.
And here we stand, railing at the cold,
at the emptiness their going leaves behind,
clinging to it as if by clinging
we could roll back time, and see them
dancing still.
Yet, even in our grieving, beneath its depths,
we hear their laughter and their songs,
blending with the Yes that dances
within us and beyond,
where time has no meaning
and love wears no form.
Here, in the pine woods,
standing at the feet of giants,
it’s impossible to speak.
What could you say anyway?
How could mere words have any value?
“Thank you,” perhaps. But you sense
they already know what’s in your heart.
The world is in Humpty-Dumpty mode,
teetering precariously on the edge of the wall,
and today strong winds blow and fire shoots through the air
and explodes from the earth,
and dense clouds of surreality sail through the air.
Nevertheless, an island of peace rises from the calm lake
and the colors of autumn sing.
Looking back on this September,
in the year of 2024, you may think
of firestorms and hurricanes, of lives
destroyed or irrevocably changed.
And you may be tempted
to let sorrow overwhelm you.
Life is always tenuous and danger
often near. Our lessons in compassion
come with a great price. But
may you also remember, when
you think back on this time,
that its days held golden leaves
and sunflowers dancing to the song
of a gentle breeze, and that,
as she was leaving, September
left blue stars, shining from the grass,
love notes to remind you
that life goes on, and you, truly,
are precious and loved.
Autumn’s flags wave from the trees.
The woodland’s floor wears
its first layer of fallen leaves,
fluttering like a convention of butterflies
meeting to trade stories of their flights.
And so the dance goes on,
the dancers giddy in their twirling,
their flamboyant costumes
shining in the afternoon sun,
exposing to all the world
the fire in their joyous souls.
Humans don’t come here,
to this hallowed ground
that, all summer, was the bed
of a lake, covered in water
three feet deep where ducks
and terns swam and raised
their young among the rushes.
The only footprints at all
are hooved ones. So I walk
with reverence and care,
filled with wonder at the sight
of this magical expanse,
so transformed, as it stretches,
so revealed, in the afternoon light
of the late September sun.
It was a beautiful week here in western Pennsylvania. September quickly brought summer to an end and is ushering in what promises to be a colorful autumn.
The goldenrod is glowing in the fields, and the leaves are beginning to fall. They crunch beneath your feet as you walk down a sidewalk or, if you’re lucky, down a woodland path.
The beauty was a comfort to me as day after day brought difficult news both from up close and afar. As one friend wrote, describing a devastating setback, “When a dream breaks, it hurts.”
Yes. It does. Life holds frightening, disappointing and painful times for us all. Sometimes it hurts almost more than we can bear.
The only healing salve I ever found for that kind of pain is kindness.
I learned that from Tara Brach, an American Buddhist and psychologist. “Say to yourself,” she advises, “’this is suffering. Everybody suffers. May I be kind.’”
Be kind. You never know what burden someone is carrying in silence. But above all, be kind to yourself.
When you’re in pain, recognize that what you are experiencing is universal; everyone suffers. You’re not alone in your suffering.
Part of self-compassion means you set aside, at least for the moment, your longing to have things be different than they are. Accept that you are hurting. Accept that you are angry, or deeply disappointed, or in pain, or that you feel abandoned or betrayed.
Accept that those feelings are part of being human and that it’s okay to feel them right now. Hold yourself as tenderly as you would hold a crying child.
Know, too, that all suffering is temporary. It exhausts itself, all of its own accord. It may return; it may come in waves. But always, it exhausts itself and finally gives way to a new perspective, and you go on.
Life isn’t static. It carries us into new circumstances at every moment. And at every moment, it offers us comfort and peace. As soon as we are ready to receive them, life’s gifts are there, waiting for us. And they wait with patience and love until we can be ready.
Sometimes it’s as simple as letting go of the story you’re telling yourself about how awful things are, and of waking up to the broader reality. Sometimes it takes a good meal, or a good night’s sleep, or some time with an understanding friend. Sometimes it takes a new idea, a willingness to try something new.
And sometimes it just takes the passage of time.
But whenever you’re ready, the side of life that’s good and beautiful will be waiting to meet you. Keep your faith in life alive.
Life can hurt, and life can be exquisitely beautiful. Go with the flow, shouting out, “What a ride! Oh, Thank You! What a ride!”
Wishing you a week of sunshine and good fortune.
Warmly,
Susan
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay