Time for
Serenity, Anyone?
William
Stafford
I like to live in the sound
of water,
in the feel of mountain air. A sharp
reminder hits me: this world is still alive,
it stretches out there shivering toward its own
creation, and I’m part of it. Even my breathing
enters into this elaborate give-and-take,
this bowing to sun and moon, day or night,
winter, summer, storm, still–this tranquil
chaos that seem to be going somewhere.
This wilderness with a great peacefulness in it.
This motionless turmoil, this everything dance.
(Found on Parker Palmer's page, he adds this note: "The poem also gives voice to a simple sabbatical insight I want to keep alive: The most radical thing I can do during this era of intense social and political turmoil is hold to inner peace, as best I can. This isn’t the first time I’ve learned that lesson, but I needed to learn it again."
Some of us are seeking serenity even more than usual this year. There's a lot of turmoil going on, it's a time of great unrest. And although the summer has been gorgeously long and hot, the river water beautiful and the mountains majestic, we are also preparing for a seasonal shift, to fall and cooler weather and a return to school. This year that return is very needed yet very stressful – uncertainty about the virus spreading amongst children, whether the kids will wear masks or not in classroom, all the little bubbles of friends spreading and mixing. Parents getting their freedom back!
Even though my kids are grown and living on their own, my son’s wife is
pregnant, and therefore limiting her contacts with the world at large, safely working
from home. But as thirty somethings, the invitations for weddings, funerals, christenings and baby showers are frequent - and have to be negotiated, considered, sometimes declined. It is not an easy time for any of us.
In this continuing pandemic chaos, we need a little serenity. I offer this poem as a reminder that the seasons are still turning, the dance of life is on-going, and we are part of this creation of nature. My breathing is part of the give and take.
I need to find tranquility in the midst of the chaos surrounding me, on the news, in the airwaves, around the corner.
When the moon is shining on the water, I am reminded of that beauty.
When the wind is blowing the leaves from the trees, I watch in wonder.
When the storm clouds blow and shake and shiver the sky, I am grateful
to have shelter.
Laisse le vent souffler! Let the wind
blow, sings Zachary Richard (amidst hurricane season).
There is beauty even in the madness – il y a de la beauté dans la malheur,
sings Kevin Parent, two songs I’ve shared recently on my Facebook page.
They remind me that music, songs, poetry, nature are balms for my soul – they remind
me to stay where I can breathe. To re-center and lift my eyes to the sun and
moon, to the stars and the sky. To dance with the wind.
Tomorrow is a full moon. I’m going to get outside and fill my
eyes with light.
I want to remember the basics, the in-breath, the out-breath.
Soften my belly and feel my feet on the ground.
Stand like a tree and receive the life energy flowing.
Sending me signals, messages, this moment.
Serenity is within my reach.
