The weather is changing.
There's an almost audible buzz under the rapidly melting blanket of snow and ice covering the ground in Wisconsin. The willows are glowing from within, turning yellow-orange as their sap rises in anticipation of budding. The alarm clock that signals birds to find and defend their territory has gone off, triggered by the increase in daylight and expressed in a chorus of song at dawn. The reprieve of a warm southern breeze is followed by a sudden burst of sleet carried in on a chill north wind that finds its way into your bones. The sandhill cranes have returned from their winter vacation down south, filling the skies with their distinctive trilling call from on high.
And yet, for all these signs of spring, it is still winter. The spring equinox is still ahead on the calendar, and snow is in the forecast for Thursday.
Does it ever feel like this in your life, inside your own head and heart?
You may find yourself well on your way to making a desired change, basking in the warmth of your accomplishment, when suddenly, a bitter wind of doubt snakes it way into your collar and down your spine, leaving you feeling lost and dejected. The tender green shoots of a new idea may have just poked up into the world when an ice storm of worry falls overnight, threatening to freeze the life out of them.
It's easy to get discouraged and wonder what the heck is wrong with us when this happens. How is it possible that one moment, we can be bursting with energy and sallying forth in the world under a good head of steam and then suddenly, a gray fog descends, and the once rosy future seems obscured behind an impenetrable wall of apathy.
Sometimes these shifts in our internal weather take place over weeks or days, but sometimes they can happen in the course of an hour! Either way, they can be disconcerting and confusing, creating doubt in our ability to find contentment and happiness in life.
But, it's just the weather.
People in Wisconsin often say, "If you don't like the weather, wait an hour." Here, it's possible to leave the house in the morning in your shirtsleeves and wish you had your parka by afternoon. And it's the same within us. We might crawl out of bed in a dark mood, wishing for all the world that we could just stay in bed with the covers over our heads, but by midmorning, the sun has come out again in our souls and everything seems lighter and brighter.
Finding a way to gracefully weather these capricious changes that sweep through like clouds on a windy March day can be a key to creating what one of my favorite old-time country songs calls, "a satisfied mind."
We can begin by realizing and accepting that like the external weather, our internal weather shifts and blows and calms and blusters, and the only sure thing is that it won't stay the same. Our infinitely creative and eagerly analytical minds spring into action to find reasons for each wayward gust or raindrop. "I'm unhappy. It must be that fight I had with Cathy." Oh, how we love grasping at reasons!
If we can let go of our need to tell a story to explain the weather, though, our minds can rest and be still. In the stillness, we can watch the clouds go by without chasing them across the hills. It's not that we ignore them or pretend they don't exist, but rather, we simply observe and let them float through our awareness. We can observe our feelings in much the same way. We observe that we're feeling them, and we definitely do feel them, and...that's all.
It takes practice to become a calm and still observer of the sea changes in ourselves rather than getting tossed about by every errant wave. When we allow ourselves to be buffeted, we risk becoming like an unmoored boat in a stormy harbor that damages itself and everything it crashes into. Our goal is to skillfully and gracefully point our bow into the waves and glide through the crests and troughs until the storm passes.
The more we attach ourselves to analysis and explanations and blame, the more likely we are to blow about like a boat without a rudder. The inflexibility of believing we have to be decisive - love or hate, give up or go on, all or nothing - leads us to act impetuously and unskillfully. When we can take a breath....and another...and another... and be patient, we find that without our doing a thing, the sea calms, the sun comes out, and the storm that had us so anxious has passed all on its own.
Whether we call it finding the stillpoint or becoming the Observer, whether we focus on our breath or say a prayer, we are all doing our best to stay on the path to peace, to beingat ease. The more we practice, the more skillful we become.
After all, it's just the weather. Just wait.
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Coaching Questions: