It's been quite a year, hasn't it?
I think I'd go so far as to say that August was one of the busiest months I've had in a long time. Honestly, I've heard from so many folks that they feel the same about their August as well, which has had me considering the impacts of the constant scheduling, the constant tasks, the eternal constant cognitive load and existential weight of the world on all of our backs.
It's just been kind of a lot, right?
We all have a lot going on, and the chaos and uncertainty only adds to that "lot going on".
This week, I keep finding my attention drawn, over and over, to thoughts of peace.
I have so much passion for so many topics! There are a million things I'd like to advocate for, a million and a half groups I'd like to volunteer my time with, and at least two million things I'd like to read/watch/play/learn about/ponder at any given time. But there's one of me, and only 24 hours in each day.
Last week, I slept around five and a half hours on average each night, so that leaves 18.5. Say I have to shower, eat, and stuff for two hours per day, and that I have to teach classes and write and meet with students and grade papers and go to other meetings for five or six hours per day. I have counseling clients, too. All of that leaves me about 8 hours per day. I need to do the dishes, consider the laundry, and make sure the dog gets food and treats as well (never enough treats for her, but that's just due to my deficiencies as a dog parent). I REALLY like to talk to my wife and debrief from the day and exist in her presence, so that's at least a couple hours a day. When you look at my multitude of hobbies and just-for-fun stuff, I've got probably 2 hours left without something going on. I have Board meetings as well, and have to pay taxes and call insurance companies for my private practice, and also lots more that I haven't thought to add to this list.
All of this adds up to many obligations and not a whole lot of free time. Someone called me the other day to ask if I had the time to volunteer at an upcoming event. I was teaching when she called, so it went to my voicemail. This voicemail was a first for me, because the caller said she subscribes to this newsletter (hey there, you) and that she didn't know how I have the time to do all the stuff I do. And yes, caller, you're right. I have stuff going on. But I really appreciated the voicemail anyway!
Listen, though--we ALL have stuff going on. And on a macro level, most of my stuff isn't objectively better or more important than anyone else's stuff--its distinguishing characteristic is mostly that it's my stuff. It's stuff I'm passionate about, stuff I love doing, and stuff I've chosen to take on. Nobody's forcing me to do any of these things, and I'm very happy with my life, busy or not. I hope you're happy with yours as well.
But peace, though. What does peace mean to me, and how do I find it in my life?
I wanted to write about peace this week, because I think that's a question that is worth exploring for every one of us. I don't want anyone to be impressed by my schedule (honestly, you should probably be grossed-out by it). What I do want is for you to consider this question, and the other questions I'm going to ask this week. I hope that it gives you some space for inspiration and an avenue for placing some intentional peace in your life. That's the goal! As you read through this week's newsletter, I'd love you to play along with me. Try to answer these four questions for yourself as I work through them out loud for myself, and let's see if the exercise helps you too.
Question 1: What does peace mean to me?
I already told you I've been considering this question. It's hard to say what put the thought into my head, but it's been there, amidst all the hustle and bustle. When I think about peace, it makes me think about the eye within a storm, of the port in the midst of a roiling sea, of a grassy meadow surrounded by swamp. It's a state of being that I sometimes don't even recognize until I've been in it for a few minutes. I come to myself fully and say, "Weird--this is peace, right here and right now." The difference between the here which is at peace and the everything else which is not at peace. It's one of those things that I can easiest point out by contrasting its opposite, my usual chaos (especially now), by noting the difference of its contours and outline in the room. Peace just is, and I know it when I'm experiencing it.
Now it's your turn: What does peace mean to you?
Question 2: Where does peace exist for me, right now?
My home office has a large window, and now that we're entering fall I keep that window wide open most days. When I find an unexpected gap in my schedule, I get up from my desk, stretch as big as I can, and lie on my back on the massive beanbag chair in the corner. I look at the sky through my office window, feel the breeze on my face and hands and feet, and just breathe. That's peace.
Sitting in the stillness and listening during an unprogrammed Quaker Meeting for Worship is glorious. Sometimes, that stillness lasts for five minutes, or thirty minutes, or even an hour. The silence of a Quaker Meeting is like nothing else I've ever experienced. That's peace.
For an hour or two each night, my wife and dog and I lie in bed, lights off, and listen to the quiet in our neighborhood. We both read, I alternate between rubbing my wife's feet and my dog's belly, and we just exist in the drowsy, cozy, love-blanketed liminal space between the busy day behind us and the busy day ahead of us. That's peace.
How about you: Where does peace exist for you, right now?
(here’s the dog in question, though her belly was covered by jammies in this pic)
Question 3: What differences might I see in my life if I found more peace?
This is a question I've spent a fair amount of time considering. My soul and heart are both so enriched by the moments of peace I find in my week, and this tells me that it's something worth investing in. Like I said, I know it when I'm experiencing it, and I want to experience more of that feeling, that time and space outside time and space. The breeze. The stillness.
I frequently talk with both my counseling clients and my students about the value of leaving unscheduled time in our schedules. I say that we demonstrate what we ultimately prioritize through what we devote our energy and resources to. I say that a state of peace is worth seeking out and that we have to embark upon that seeking process if we actually want to find something. And I believe--deeply believe--that all of these things are true.
I also believe that we don't have to be perfect in order to deliver a perfect message to someone else who needs to hear it in that moment, and that there's nothing hypocritical about aspiring to better that we can deliver in a given moment. Aspirational goals matter just as much as concrete ones, in my world.
So I believe that more peace would give me space to consider what matters most to me. I believe that more peace would give me time to embrace the stillness I so rarely encounter. And I also believe that more peace would make the rest of my time--the decidedly non-peaceful time--more rich, more flavorful, and more impactful. Which is kind of the whole point of a lot of the ways I spend the resources that I do have.
What do you think: What differences might you see in your life if you found more peace?
Question 4: What can I realistically do to seek out more peace?
I spend more time than I should scrolling on my phone. You probably do as well. Keep in mind that I'm not demonizing phones or technology for the heck of it (so much anti-technology rhetoric is a modern-day moral panic and has very little good research backing it up). That's a topic for another week, though. No, I'm talking about times when I could be listening to the breeze, or times when I could be rubbing that dog tummy, or times when I could be scrunching my toes into the grass in my backyard. I don't HAVE to have my phone in my hand for so many hours in the day. This one is something that I can realistically work on. Leaving my phone in one room for a while when I move through my day is one way to do that, since it's more trouble than it's worth to go and grab it in a quiet moment instead of just being quiet for a bit. That's something I can realistically do.
The second realistic piece of my plan is to capitalize on some of those early-morning moments. You know the ones--the times when I get up and kind of wander around aimlessly while I consider making our breakfast. Why not take five or ten minutes to experience the peace I'm looking for? I plan to try this a few mornings this week, just to see how it goes. It certainly can't hurt.
The third realistic thing I'm going to put into place to help me seek out more peace in my life is to schedule 30 minutes at a time, a few days per week, without a clear plan of something to fit into that time. I get this sort of peace during the aforementioned cancellations and random gaps in my schedule, but in the interest of being more intentional in this way, I'm going to actually schedule a few of these gaps and see how it goes. This is realistic too (which, I think, is key).
Your turn, for the last time: What can you realistically do to seek out more peace?
Thanks for reading and sharing this, and I wish you all the peace in the world. Wherever you are in your life when you read these words, know that you deserve peace. No matter how busy your life is, no matter what's nipping at your heels, no matter what. Talk to you next week!