The Stately Calm Within
When I checked this morning, not only was the coronavirus pandemic still raging, but the smoke that’s been covering the San Francisco Bay Area for the past 6 days was still there. With the pandemic, it’s been 6 months of “new normal” and for much of the day, most days, I forget how much has changed. Now the fires burning all along the west coast of the United States present a new challenge. The burning land and property and the displaced and missing people are all on my mind. The heat, ash, and smoke rising from the fires themselves create their own weather pattern which tends to hold the smoke in place. There’s no telling when things will improve. With the high volume of smoke in the air, newspapers are talking about how ‘it’s not safe even at home.’ I simultaneously want to grit my teeth at the situation and laugh at the absurdity of a calamity standing on the shoulders of another calamity.
At the start of the year, before the pandemic, I traveled with my husband, Matthias, to visit my family in Melbourne, Australia. In addition to time with my family, we arranged a short visit to Wilson’s Promontory, a beautiful national park about 3 hours by car from Melbourne that Matthias had never seen. After we arrived in Australia, we began to hear news of multiple wildfires burning in the states of Victoria and New South Wales. Before long, Melbourne was shrouded in smoke. As the time of our visit to Wilson’s Prom approached, the air was still smoky. Optimistic nonetheless, we set out on the drive to the Prom. An hour into the drive, the smoke still covered the land as far as the eye could see. Two hours into the drive, there was still smoke everywhere. Finally, we arrived at our cabin near the Prom. We had driven well over 100 miles and the air was no better than in Melbourne! For most of the visit, the smoke was so thick that the visibility was little more than a mile. Luckily on our last day at the Prom, a lot of the smoke cleared and Matthias could finally see what the fuss was about. Wilson’s Promontory is simply stunning, with miles of gorgeous coastline, amazing hiking, and beautiful beaches.
The funny thing about our experience with the fires in Australia was that it wasn’t Matthias’s and my “first rodeo” either! The San Francisco Bay Area had a bad fire season in late 2018. Smoke covered the city day after day for weeks. The smell in the air, the poor air quality index, the risk to one’s health of spending prolonged periods out of doors were all very familiar to us. Each experience has proven to be a forgiveness opportunity in its own right. There is plenty of scope to feel victimized by the smoke, to feel afraid of the impact on others, the land, and one’s health, and to feel saddened by the sheer devastation of these great fires. There is also enormous scope to turn to the Teacher of Peace found within and ask for help in returning to a state of peace.
What I began to think about in Australia—maybe even while at Wilson’s Promontory—is how I take nature as a given. If I need a personal reset or a shift in perspective, I can always rely on time in the outdoors. And yet, when hundreds of acres of land are burning and the very air is unsafe to breathe, what then? There is an early workbook lesson that says: I do not know what anything is for (Lesson 25). Clearly, nature can’t truly be relied on for help with shifting perspective because everything is temporary. Similarly, I don’t know what days and weeks of smoky air are for either. Nonetheless, Lesson 25 hasn’t stopped me from coming to one or another conclusion that provides comfort! I started thinking about the unreliability of nature as a source of peace again in the last day or so. I realized that the smoke over San Francisco isn’t about to clear quickly and that it’s best to accept that it will be around for a while. What I do know is that despite the days of unrelenting smoke, there is something I can rely on no matter what, and it is the quiet center found inside me.
The title of this post comes from Chapter 18 of A Course in Miracles:
And turn you to the stately calm within, where in holy stillness dwells the living God you never left, and Who never left you. (T-18.I.8)
If you’re like me, these words themselves may have a calming effect, being a reminder of what is always available and never lost, not even when wild fires are wreaking havoc over untold acres of land. But if you’re not like me, and the words do little for you, here is a practical exercise that may help you turn to “the stately calm within.” In my work as a therapist, I guide my clients in an exercise called “Peaceful Scene.” This exercise draws from our experience with better times, which live in our memories. To do the exercise, first choose a scene to bring up in your imagination, one that you associate with peace or calm. For most people, this is a scene from nature, whether looking out over mountains or the ocean, hiking in the woods, sitting by a lake, watching snow fall around you as you stand bundled warmly in a coat, or whatever setting brings you a sense of stillness or peace.
To do the exercise, settle yourself somewhere quiet, whether in a seat or lying down. Close your eyes and take a few breaths at your own pace. Then bring up your scene. Using just your mind’s eye, look around you and take in everything that you see. Do this for about a minute, or shorter if a minute seems too long. Then shift your attention and listen with your ‘mind’s ears’ to anything that you hear in your setting, whether it is the wind, the movement of water, the sound of wild life, or even no sound at all. Do this for another minute (or shorter). Then let that go and bring your attention to what you feel with your skin and your body, whether it is the sensation of the sun or snowflakes melting on your skin or the feeling of your body as you sit or walk in your peaceful scene. Do this for about a minute. Then shift your attention again, this time to what you smell in the scene. Perhaps you smell trees or flowers or the tang of the ocean or the smell of crisp winter air. Do this for some seconds. Then shift your attention once again to what you taste in your scene, whether it is the air, a drink of water, or nothing in particular. Do this also for some seconds. For the last part of the time in the peaceful scene, bring together all of your senses: what you see with your mind’s eyes, what you hear, what you feel with your skin or body, what you smell and what you taste. Take a minute to be fully present in your scene by doing this. When you are ready, open your eyes.
Hopefully, this exercise helps evoke a sense of calm or stillness within you. Even while nature itself may not be behaving as you might wish, memories of time in the nature can serve as a powerful reminder of “the stately calm within.” This peaceful state goes with you everywhere, not matter what state of mind you are in at any given moment and no matter what is happening outside of you. I have heard meditation teachers draw an analogy between the mind and water in a lake. When the lake is still, we can look through the water and see the bottom. When events stir up the water, the silt on the bottom is stirred up as well and so the water is cloudy and we can’t see the bottom. But as the water stills again, the silt settles and we can again see the bottom of the lake. The mind is like that too. It can get stirred up and feel very much not at peace. The Peaceful Scene is reminder of the still water. It is a representation of the quiet center, the peaceful state that evokes the experience of the state itself.
A Course in Miracles asks:
Can you imagine what it means to have no cares, no worries, no anxieties, but merely to be calm and quiet all the time? (T-15.I.1)
During turbulent times, it can certainly be difficult to imagine having no cares, worries, or anxiety. Even at the best of times, much as we hope to remain calm and untroubled, we tend to expect our peace to be temporary. After all, what we’ve experienced our whole lives is that the next problem, however great or small, is bound to present itself. About attaining a state of enduring peace, the Course goes on to say:
Yet that is what time is for; to learn just that and nothing more. (T-15.I.2)
That is what this blog is for also. I will continue to practice my forgiveness lessons, in whatever form they appear. I wish you, Dear Reader, all the best with your journey, and I especially wish you many moments strung together spent in your quiet center.
All quotes are from A Course in Miracles, copyright ©1992, 1999, 2007 by the Foundation for Inner Peace, 448 Ignacio Blvd., #306, Novato, CA 94949, www.acim.org and info@acim.org, used with permission.