How To Find Your Center Amidst the Chaos
Losing rights to our bodies and to our reproductive and sexual health care. There’s speculation and dread that marriage equality rights are next. Gender-affirming health care rights are being stripped away state by state. Ukraine is still being destroyed. Oh ya, and this week it will be in the 90’s. If you just planted your precious starters outside that you’re hoping will nourish you this season, you probably tried to frantically find shade cloth at the garden centers, but there was none. They only had frost blankets in stock. Why’s that? Because it’s not normal for it to be this hot this early. In the West, it has been the driest two decades in 1,200 years.
This is happening.
On top of all that, your boss keeps emailing you asking for tedious reports and numbers. They’ve marked these obtuse emails with the dreaded red exclamation mark as if their crisis, passed down from upper management’s anxiety, is the only thing that matters in the world.
Sigh…
An invitation.
Before you open your email this morning, take a moment to find center.
Find a spot on the floor, on the ground, in your favorite chair, somewhere you can sit for a few moments. Let your weight sink down toward the earth, grounding you and centering you in that place.
The chaos around you is not new. It is part of the way things are. The challenge is in finding peace and joy in the midst of the chaos. It is a practice, a rewiring of our brains.
Breathe.
Remember your breath.
Breathe in. Exhale out.
Breathe in. Exhale out.
Find the place, within, the place that is your center. It is a still, quiet place. It is strong and courageous amidst the strongest winds of chaos. It is the place where wisdom lives. In this place, you already know what you need. You already know how to respond. You already know how to navigate this challenge.
Check in with yourself. What do you need today?
Breathe in. Exhale out.
I grew up in the South amongst pecan trees and deep piney woods wrapped in kudzu. This time of the year smelt sweet of honey suckle running along the edges and climbing up fences. When I was a kid, I used to pluck the string from the center of the honey suckle flowers and taste the sweet drop of nectar and laugh and pluck some more. Now, I live in the Front Range of Colorado. The grasses are growing and green is pushing through the yellow, dried blades of the tall grasses. If you stop for a moment, let your feet or your tires stop crunching along the dirt roads and paths, you’ll hear the mountain meadow larks singing from the bushes and grasses. Their song is sweet, mournful, but hopeful.
Listen.
What do you hear in your place right now? If it’s not a pleasant sound that feels right, can you remember a time, a sound, a smell that brings joy? Where do you notice that joy in your body? Is it a slight smile on your face? Is it the lowering of your shoulders? Is it strength in your back?
Breathe in. Exhale out.
Repeat for as long as it feels good.
Return to your breathe as often as you need.
Be gentle with yourself today.
