In the midst of the storm, I feel small and helpless. There is fear that the storm will overcome me.
I know of the danger in advance, but I ignore the warnings to back away. Instead, I hunker down. That is when the floods start, conflict swirls in all directions and visibility is reduced to nothing.
My heart pounds. I struggle to catch my breath, to make logical choices, and to know how to care for me and those around me.
And then I remember back to the time when as the hurricane developed I watched it from above. I saw it’s wild bands expanding, its dark center churning. From above I could see its boundaries. From above I noticed clusters of calm, bright sky swirling in the darkness.
In every storm since, I have acknowledged that I have a choice to turn away and even when I neglect that choice, I can find calm within the bands of chaos if I can just remember flying above it.
In the quiet stillness of the morning’s dawn, I sit, knowing my fullness. Visions and reflections upon a life that is joyful, playful, peaceful, successful, grateful, “easeful,” all floating through my consciousness. I smile in all of the fullness and the goodness that I feel in those quite moments.
And, as the day rolls in and I leave my perch of stillness, of knowing who I really am, in walk the dominant thoughts and beliefs, those who come bearing gifts of knowledge, perspective, and guidance.
Disguised as motivation and inspiration, they convince me that they should stay. As the days go on, more and more of them fill the walls that are me until there is no room for much of anything else.
It becomes harder and harder to return to the visions of the joyful, peaceful, successful me as more and more of my thoughts and beliefs are no longer playful, easeful, and grateful, but are doubtful, stressful, hurtful, “limitful” and “lackful.”
With this set of beliefs and thoughts, how can I expect to live out my heart’s deepest longing, my rightful life of grace and ease, my natural state of happiness and goodness? I cannot.
So, I dig down deep, barely remembering that beautiful being that is me. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I drop back into the stillness of the early dawn and on each exhale I thank those dominant thoughts and beliefs for their visit. I wish them well as they whisk away on the mist of my breath.
I return to simply being…in all the strength, beauty, vitality, richness, ease, and joy that is me.
When flying with small children or those requiring special assistance, you notice right away that flight attendants suggest that in an emergency oxygen masks will dispatch from the cabin overhead and that you are supposed to secure your oxygen mask first before assisting others.
What? Help myself first and THEN others? Seems pretty selfish, down right rude, and certainly contrary to maintaining a generous spirit. Should I really tend to my needs first?
Whether raising children, caring for loved ones, supporting colleagues at work, or just moving through life, others are always relying on us. We are no good to anyone if we are running ourselves ragged, neglecting to care for ourselves, or giving until we are all tapped out. What if we engage in self-FILLED service instead of self-LESS service? What if we were to keep ourselves strong, healthy, vibrant and full, so that we can be there for those who need us when they need us most?
So, maybe that flight attendant was right. To best serve those in need, maybe I do need to put on my oxygen mask first. Maybe I need to get my own oxygen flowing first before I can help others with theirs.
On your Boeing 737 lifecraft, don’t let the voice of that very wise flight attendant be drowned out by engine noise. Know the information on the safety card, and, whatever else you do, be sure to secure your oxygen mask before assisting others with theirs.
