Finding Peace – Every Day
There are times in life when calming our spirit is crucial. The world is difficult, and when we experience a shakeup, we automatically seek out our favorite comfort zones. We want peace for our souls, and it's usually found in sensory experiences.
- A warm bath, cozy blanket, or favorite pajamas.
- Lighting vanilla candles, the smell of lilacs growing in a field, or freshly baked cookies.
- A piece of classical music, or the sound of children laughing.
- A photo of Waimanalo Beach or sitting with an espresso watching the sun go down.
- The texture and taste of warm apple pie and ice cream.
- Chocolate, especially when combined with milk cold enough to cause tongue-frostbite. Maybe this one is just me.
Music, art, and architecture also contribute to our inner peace. And let’s never dismiss a calm and peaceful walk through nature.
“Beauty will save the world.” (Dostoevsky.)
Our world guarantees we will be exposed to chaos, disruption, pain, and suffering. We spend enormous amounts of time and energy trying to escape, dispel, and reject difficult times. We think about avoidance, ruminate on strategy, and ponder our plans to overcome real and imagined anxieties.
However, I wonder if these mind-bending calculations and preparations might be causing more of the chaos we wish to sidestep. While we’re directing our thoughts toward evasive actions, workarounds, and schemes to bypass the worst-case scenarios, we might inadvertently create more inner turmoil.
Sure, the prefrontal cortex is our executive center. Our detailed attention keeps us safe, allows us to prosper, and keeps us healthy. But the amygdala gets a bad rap.
That’s the region of our brain that is always prepared for fight, flight, and freeze responses. But it’s also the area (along with the hippocampus) that processes fond memories and emotions including those of gratitude and appreciation.
Critical thinking is vitally important. But when overwhelmed, we reach for the cocoon of warm fuzzies. We look for those peaceful memories. We balance the thunder and lightning with a harp and a bubbling creek.
To provide a balance between theory and practicality, allow me to provide two examples that continually stand out in my experience.
Boston, MA. The Deluge
I was returning from a whale-watching trip. As the cruise ship approached Boston Harbor, the sky was ominous. We were soon to experience heavy rain. Disembarking, I looked for a cab to take me back to the hotel. No such thing. God-given legs would have to get me there. New to the city, I was not exactly sure where ‘there’ was, however. Within minutes, I was confronted with the inevitable. Enormous drops of water served to drench all things within seconds. Saturated, I continued.
The temperatures were very mild, so the rain was more like my morning showers. Other than wet clothes, I was not uncomfortable.
Lightning with thunder made several dramatic appearances. The streets of Boston are narrow, and the light show ricocheted between the buildings of the city in time with the insistent crescendo of thunder. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience of nature at its most beautiful. I mourned that I was the only person on those cloud-darkened streets to witness this amazingness.
I was wandering aimlessly until I found a police kiosk and asked for directions. Of course, the expression on the face of my uniformed savior was priceless as he guided me to my destination – only blocks away.
In short order, I entered the extravagant lobby of this Bostonian 4+-star hotel on School Street. This was a place suitable for kings and is remembered as the location where a future president had proposed to his soon-to-be bride. My intrusion upon this holy ground was not well accepted. I vividly remember the noise of soggy shoes and the darkening water stains left behind as I made my way through palatial surroundings with jeans and shirt clinging to me like a second skin. I looked transient (being kind to myself) and the proof was found in the look of horror on the faces of my spectators. I dared not laugh until I was safely ensconced - alone in the gilded elevator.
Boston, MA. Old Ironsides (USS Constitution).
I felt mandated to take a tour of this historical frigate floating in Charleston Navy Yard. I have no idea what I had expected, but this vessel is smaller (much smaller) than I thought. It didn’t take long to be guided from stem to stern including below decks.
When navigating up the ladder to the main deck, I glanced upward, and the world came to a stop – just for a second. The moment became a tapestry of thought and interpretation. Looking skyward through sails and rigging, I was captivated by a somewhat abstract view of reality. I imagined the complex web of rigging as the twists and turns of life while seeing the sails filling with the wind taking us to a better place. That sacred place, that light, was visible in every nook and cranny exposed within all those complications. All of this happened in that one second.
There were no camera-embedded cell phones at that time but when getting home, I obsessively searched everywhere for a representation of the experience. I wanted that photo to be perfect. The viewing perspective experienced was already burned into my memory but I desperately needed some physical manifestation for proof. Thankfully, someone with a camera had captured a similar moment and I bought this photo from the Boston Globe.
These two stories explain how being aware, being open to experience, and being appreciative of the surprising things this world offers can be our secret sauce to a balanced and peaceful life.
I find it extraordinary that the Bostonian ‘chaos of thunder and lightning’ turned out to be the ‘harp and bubbling creek’ needed to find serenity. Even that realization matters as it proves my point, exactly. The introduction of peace into lives of chaos can be found everywhere - every day.
At any time, I can place myself in Boston and repeat these experiences. I can close my eyes and remember the warm rain while experiencing the performance of light and sound. I can open them to reveal the expressions of a complicated life portrayed in the sails and rigging while yet seeing the open sky above it all.
Yes, “Beauty will save the world.” It will also save me.
"This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad.” Psalm 118:24