Out of control

Håkan Dahlström

So by now we are all stillness experts, right? Every day is filled with serenity and equanimity in the face of crisis, right?

...

And now we have all had a good laugh at the absurdity of that statement,  we can move on to discussing what to do when life really is as far from still and calm as it is possible to be. Because it is. Mothers declare it must be wine o clock at 3pm. Office workers bemoan Monday mornings,  Wednesday hump days and cheer as the clock reaches Friday afternoon. And some days we all wonder just why we got out of bed at all,  much less why our species crawled out of the swamp and into a tree.

Life often does not go to plan. We frequently do not act with buddha-like calm when we are vexed. Indeed,  that we become vexed at all instead of maintaining an immutable peace may be seen by some as a failure.

I see it as human. My goal is not to float in a bubble of calm at all times: that would mean missing out on all the wild joys life has to offer. My goal is to recover my stillness more quickly after life has disturbed it. Life is all the colours of the rainbow and I much prefer having to experience the darkness of deep indigo so that I can revel in the pale pink and blues and sparkling lights. Especially if the alternative is an unending grey. 

But how to recover after a daily disaster? I try to recognise when I'm in a spin with emotions inappropriately high and... let them go. Recognise that I am sad or angry or anxious,  but know that it's not me. It is only my reaction to the current situation. Often just acknowledging the emotions releases me from their grip and I am better able to choose how I react instead of letting emotions take over.

Stillness does not have to be absolute. Our emotions are valuable but occasionally we are overcome. The trick is not to banish them altogether but know that a bad day doesn't mean a bad life. We move on,  better able to appreciate the good times. There is no light that does not also cast a shadow.