Virtue of the Week: Peacefulness

I woke up in my own bed this morning, and after five weeks of separation, my husband was by my side. Now I sit at my computer with a cup of coffee. My house drips around me as the boys play and coo by themselves. My home is peaceful.

Or is it?

I just returned from a workshop in redecision therapy, requiring a trip by plane to North Carolina with my 3 month old and 3 year old. The boys didn't make a peep -- not a cry, not a kick, not a scream -- on the way out of town.

The trip home was different. The baby cried for milk while my three year old kicked the seat in front of him and tossed screeches into the air. While some people around me smiled knowingly and said they had been there, the three men in front of us were not happy. After many unsuccessful attempts to quiet and calm my son, I leaned forward and apologized to the man directly in front of my son. With a dagger glance and a scowl his face said, "How dare you? You disgust me. Go spank your child into submission." His look reminded me that his feelings are not my concern. I returned my attention to my son.

And rather than threaten him or spank him, my attention was loving and nurturing as I asked him how many fingernails I had (he already knows I have five fingers). He stopped and counted. I asked him if he remembered hunting for frogs with the boys in our neighborhood and how many frogs he thinks he'll find next time.

"I think I can find five frogs," he said. My tactic to transfer his energy from his emotions to his thoughts seemed to be working. "Do you remember that I had the flashlight and the other boys didn't?"

"Yes, I remember that."

"And do you remember we had to watch out for snakes?"

"Yes, I remember that too. I see you have calmed your feelings and are using your words. Congratulations."

"Om ... I think next time I want to take the blue flashlight and ... "

As he talked I fed the baby and noticed that I was relaxed. I checked out my body and didn't find any tension. I checked out my mind and didn't hear any negative thoughts about myself, my children, the people around us, or our destinies. I checked my feelings and I felt happy, no, I was beaming with joy.

My son has had a rough three months and just when he had found his rhythm with a new brother, a new home, and an absent father, I took him on a trip. He acted out. How natural! And I was comfortable with his normal behavior and the fact that I didn't have any control over him or the people around us.

The trip out, I realized, was not peaceful: It was easy peasy. While the boys were calm, my mind raced. It raced about the workshop I would attend and if I would remember anything from "that" world (the thinking about theory one) after such a long hiatus. While my body was on the plane, the calm around me allowed my mind to be somewhere else. In that somewhere else I created all sorts of scenarios about how my trip could go wrong. I imagined the negative things people could think about this stay-at-home mom and her idle attempts to keep up her learning.

The trip home, with all it's cries, kicks, and screams, was peaceful despite the circumstances. If you've ever been scuba diving, you know that even as the surface of the water chops, just a few meters below, wait peace and tranquility.

Part of peacefulness has to do with that calm place that is at our core no matter what is going on around us and part of it has to do with being in the here and now. Unless it's found within, and unless it's now, any "happy place" is a temporary escape.

Back to the peacefulness of my home: Yes, it is peaceful, not because all is quiet on the outside. Rather, because all is quiet on the inside.

Is all quiet on the inside of you?

If not, what are you saying about yourself, those around you, and your destinies?