The power of calm in a storm - just remember to breathe!

Two years ago, I heard a powerful story about keeping calm, even if only a little, and surviving a storm.  It was told by a fellow participant at a yoga retreat in Spain, back in the days when we could travel, eat meals, do yoga and talk for hours without restrictions.  Jo was sitting next to me on our first evening meal of the retreat and we chatted over delicious vegetarian cuisine.  Having all just arrived that day in Spain, the conversations were typically about easy, light topics such as travel or where you are from.  When I told Jo that I had travelled to southern Spain by train as I prefer this slower journey and am just a little nervous when flying, this prompted her memorable story...

A few months previously, Jo had taken off from Orlando airport in Florida, at the tail-end of the hurricane season.  The experienced pilot had told them that there was a small hurricane off to the north-east, but not to worry as he was going to fly right away from it.  Unfortunately, the force of the hurricane meant that the plane was sucked into the edge of these winds, leading to the type of turbulence that all pilots want to avoid.  Jo described the bumps being more like a roller-coaster ride, with your stomach lurching constantly.  By this point I was on the edge of my seat, imagining this scenario.  "What did you do, were you scared?" I asked, maybe hoping for some Zen-like lesson to be shared.

"Yes, totally" she replied, "But all I could do was hold on and I remembered to breathe.  I thought it would never end, but then suddenly it did.  After what felt like hours, but was about forty minutes, it stopped.  The plane had managed to get away from the hurricane and the rest of the journey was fine".  She described how calm the pilot had been, who regularly updated them about the small problem of being in the tail-winds of a hurricane.  The pilot is obviously trained to remain calm and navigate in extreme weather and must have an unshakeable nervous system to do this job.  

Maybe her story resonated so deeply because I spent four years in Asia, breathing my way through many difficult flights.  Nothing as serious as a hurricane, but the tropics have endless cycles of dramatic thunderstorms on a nearly daily basis.  I tried everything I knew then to deal with the fear, from hypnotherapy, a "take the fear out of flying" course plus endless relaxing music playing on my ipod.  All of these things helped just a little, but I never felt a sense of calm.  But maybe I was judging myself too harshly for feeling fear and gripping the hand-rests while many locals were peacefully asleep.  Perhaps many people unfamiliar with tropical weather systems would feel disconcerted flying in rumbling turbulence a few feet above dark, dense thunder cloud with regular flashes of lightning all around!

As I later reflected on the hurricane story, I realised that calm doesn't have to be a Zen-like "perfect calm" for it to work.  My idea of calm often conjures up the 100% version, such as on a yoga retreat, with clear blue skies, warm sunshine, exquisite nature and mountains around, heavenly food, a relaxing massage and hours of gentle yoga.  It is as if I need all my external environment to be nurturing and peaceful, with no demands, to-do lists, emails or work.  And then I can slip into a blissful type of relaxation that I never want to leave.  Leaving a yoga retreat often feels jarring, as if I am leaving a cosy cave back out into the world.  I know that I carry this calm within me but it is hard to feel such a complete sense of peace back in my day to day life.

But as the plane story illustrates, perhaps calm can also be very simple and practical, such as just remembering to breathe?  What if calm is steering one's mind away from the worst-case scenario back to the present moment, even if that is just listening to a podcast or reading a book?  Is it possible that calm isn't always a perfect spa-like experience, and is just a small space within a tense body or busy mind?  And maybe we can all find some moments of calm even with a storm, hurricane or pandemic swirling very close by?  

Through living through so many months of the pandemic, I am getting to know this different version of calm, that is more rugged and resilient.  This type of calm doesn't have a fluffy white robe and spa-slippers.  It just says "we'll get through" or "remember to breathe".  This second wave seems closer to home with more people we know affected.  Our third lockdown feels more difficult than before with the endless rainy days and long dark nights.  My new type of calm says "it is tough right now, hang in there" and makes me a soothing cup of hot chocolate and wraps a blanket around me.

As I watched the historic and monumental moment of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris being inaugurated yesterday, I was inspired by their calm presence.  Calm that doesn't shy away from the tensions and difficulties but acknowledges the crisis that is present.  Calm that is caring and compassionate yet strong all at the same time.  Calm that recognises the devastating loss of so many US citizens to Covid-19 in this long pandemic period.  As I breathed an immense sigh of relief, a collective sigh that some sanity and honesty has returned, I am inspired by the unbelievably powerful act of being steady, humane and calm.  I have now got the message that calm no longer needs to belong only to the quiet, peaceful dedicated yogi, tucked away on a retreat.  It has now taken centre-stage in the political world and thankfully, just as fear is contagious, so is calm.  And this is going to do us all some good.

"Calm is contagious" (Rorke Denver)

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