Reflections From the Past
Rhythm and Balance
This past September was a difficult time for me. The lazy days of summer had ended and I found myself thrown back into the world of school and extra curricular activities. I was chairing an event at my children’s school that took place the first week of classes. My daughter was just starting ballet, tap, and gymnastics. My son was beginning a new therapy and a new social skills group. And both kids were beginning piano lessons.
There were changes here at Journey’s as well. Steve Franz announced he would be leaving and Valerie Bornemann let us know she would temporarily be unable be a part of the creative team. Days were beginning to get shorter and I was exhausted.
I remember coming home from Journey’s one Sunday and feeling completely wiped out, I was drained of all my energy. On Sunday’s, my husband and I like to take the kids hiking or kayaking when the weather is nice, so I got myself up and went, but as soon as we got home I went straight to my bedroom and collapsed.
As I lay there, I remember asking out loud, “What is wrong with me?” Within a couple of minutes, as my mind began to clear, pieces of information that had been gathering over the previous couple of weeks, starting to come forward into my consciousness.
The first thought that came to me was of a conversation that I had with one of Nick’s doctors. We were just beginning biofeedback therapy for Nick and he was explaining what it was they would be attempting to do. He explained that the left side of Nick’s brain was functioning fine, but the right side was not. As a result, the two sides were having difficulty communicating to each other. They were out of sync. He further explained that we didn’t want to make the right side of the brain work at the same speed as the left, if they worked in unison it would cause problems. What we would be attempting to do was to have the left and right sides of the brain develop a rhythm. “Right now”, he said, “they are out of rhythm, and we need to restore that”. I remembered the word “rhythm” had caught my attention that day. I thought, “okay you’re speaking in terms I can understand.”
The next thing thought that came to my mind was something that happened the following week, in the same doctor’s office. It was Nick’s first actual biofeedback session, I assumed they would want me to wait in the waiting room when they did the biofeedback with Nick, so I brought along some things to read. But just as I sat down and began to read, they called me into the room to observe. I was excited to watch, but at the same time, the few words that I had read jumped off the page at me and I kept thinking to myself, “I have to go back and read that article”. The word that jumped off the page was “rhythm”, and the article was the Tom Wisner interview you heard earlier.
Eventually, I did go back and read that interview and I could absolutely relate to what Tom Wisner was saying because I too am a musician who grew up on the Chesapeake. I literally had the river in my back yard and I spent endless hours fishing, rowing and playing on the shore. Like Tom Wisner, I too have experienced the power of music and water and their abilities to connect us to something greater than ourselves. But I didn’t realize just how much that article resonated with me until the moment I lay collapsed on my bed. There I was, laying motionless and drained of all energy, thinking about all of this, when I realized the key to my dilemma. It was “rhythm”. More specifically, my life was out of rhythm. I was in a constant state of reaction. I was letting the chaos of everything around me, infiltrate my normally very calm center and I knew that I needed to begin to respond differently.
Over the next couple of weeks, I kept thinking about this concept of rhythm and how I am affected by it. I began to steal moments of solitude, run less errands and to allow myself more quiet. I needed to balance out all the running I had been doing with stillness. Little by little, I began to understand just how important a role rhythm and balance plays in my life. How completely surrounded we are by their forces. How each of us has our own unique rhythm. And, how absolutely necessary it is stop what we’re doing and ask ourselves “what’s happening right now?” “How am I responding to this person or situation?” “How can I respond in a way that maintains a sense of inner clam?”
By stopping and giving myself time to process exactly how I am responding to a particular moment, I can altar my response if necessary and change the outcome. If I am anxious, I can slow myself down, tune into the sound of the wind, or just be quiet. By altering my own rhythm I can bring more balance into my life, and consequently to the lives of those around me.
In preparing for today’s service, I came across a quote by Pablo Picasso I found insightful. He said:
“You must always work not just within but below your means. If you can handle three elements, handle only two. If you can handle ten, then handle five. In that way the ones you do handle, you handle with more ease, more mastery and you create a feeling of strength in reserve.”
This philosophy seems to go against everything I’ve been taught, but it certainly makes sense to me now. It doesn’t mean that we should stop doing those thing that are necessary and important, but that we should take time to rejuvenate, to have silence, to meditate, and to appreciate our blessings, so we can have that “strength in reserve” which I was missing. I think Picasso had the recipe for finding balance in life.
My husband and I recently held our 6th annual pumpkin carving party. We invite about 60 people, so it’s a fairly large undertaking. I spend many hours preparing and typically, by the day of the party I’m pretty tired. Afterward, I usually complain that I didn’t spend enough time with friends and that I was too busy running around making sure everyone had everything they needed.
This year, I’m proud to say, was a little different. I still spent a lot of time running around making sure everything was going according to plan, but I was able to stop myself several times; just a small pause in the activity to take in everything around me. I looked at the smiles on people’s faces, I watched their animated conversations and I listened to the screams of laughter coming of all the children. Through those few moments of stillness I was able to balance out all the anxiety and come away from the party feeling really fulfilled. Yes, I forgot to get out the jack-o-lantern piñata and I forgot to make the guacamole, but no one cared, and I love the fact that I didn’t care either. I believe Picasso would have been proud of me.
Since that Sunday in my bedroom, I’ve come to believe our souls have a very deep seeded, subconscious need to seek out rhythm, and by connecting with this universal rhythm we can find balance in our lives if we’re open to it. Consider this:
The first sign of human life is the rhythmic thump-bump of the heart. The heartbeat, and then breath - the in and out of breathing. Before we’re born we gently sway in the warm waters of our mother’s womb. After we’re born we are comforted by being rocked in our father’s arms or by the rocking of our cradle. (My own son needed to be sitting in a vibrating baby seat on top of the dryer while it was running in order to fall asleep.) When we’re a little older we thrill at swinging on the swings at the playground. Throughout our lives, we fill our time with all kinds of rhythmic activities, dancing, sailing, knitting, even conversations with friends have a certain comforting rhythm. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that rocking chairs are a symbol of the elderly who may no longer be able to do the more active rhythmic activities on their own.
As I’ve come to realize the significance of rhythm, I’ve also begun to wonder about how ingrained in our being it actually is.
I wonder about severely handicapped individuals who instinctively rock their bodies back and forth to calm themselves. Where does that wisdom come from?
I wonder about the origins of applause. I looked it up on the internet but couldn’t find anything definitive. I believe it must be as innate as laughter, which is also rhythmic.
I wonder about those teenagers who, while in their car, have the volume turned up to deafening levels. It is so loud that you can not only hear, but feel the bass pounding from their stereo even sitting in your car with the windows up. I can’t imagine what it feels like to be in their car. But I wonder, could they be so disconnected, so removed from the natural world that subconsciously a voice is whispering, telling them to “turn it up”? “Turn up the volume until you can feel it.” I wonder if, like my son as an infant, they need all that vibration in order to feel safe, to feel like they’re not alone, and to have a greater sense of connection to the universe.
Eastern religions and indigenous cultures all over the world believe in a sacred rhythm of the universe. In Chinese, the word “Tao” means “the way.” More specifically, it means
“the way of nature”. Taoists see the cycles of nature and the constant change in the natural world as earthly signs of a great and universal force. They call this unseen force Tao. They consider a person wise if he accommodates himself to the rhythms of the universe.
Similarly, Native Americans believe being in harmony and balance means moving in step with the universe and with its sacred rhythms - they refer to this as Good Medicine.
From the book “Walking on the Wind: Cherokee Teachings for Harmony and Balance”, Michael Garrett writes:
“Native Americans believe that all things are alive, all things have spiritual energy, and, hence all things are of essential importance within the Circle. From this belief stems the reverence of Native American peoples for life in all its forms: animals, plants, rocks and minerals, people, Mother Earth, sky, sun, moon, stars, wind, water, fire, thunder, lightning, and rain. All life exists in an intricate system of interdependence, so that the universe exists in a dynamic state of harmony and balance, reflecting the continuous flow and cycling of energy that emanates from each form of life in relation to every other living being.”
I don’t know about you, but that sounds an awful lot like the theories of quantum physics. It makes me sad to think about our ancestor’s indifference to this wisdom.
So, what do we need to do to connect with the sacred rhythm of the universe? How do we find balance and harmony in our lives? I think there are many ways. For me, being on the water is perhaps the quickest way for me to connect. I suppose it comes from having grown up on a river. Whenever I’m around water, I feel at home and take comfort in the repetitive motion of the waves. But if I can’t be around water I have to find other ways. Each of us has to find our own way, whether it be a walk in the woods or sitting quietly just listening.
One way is through contemplation or meditation. The concept of “wuwei” or “non-doing”, is central to Taoist meditation. It is the practice of quietism, (I like that word). Quietism is letting go all worldly thought and action so that the Tao (the way of nature) may enter.
Eckhart Tolle in “Stillness Speaks” says:
“Whenever you bring your attention to anything natural, anything that has come into existence without human intervention, you step out of the prison of conceptualized thinking and, to some extent, participate in the state of connectedness with Being in which everything natural still exists.
To bring your attention to a stone, a tree, or an animal does not mean to think about it, but simply to perceive it, to hold it in your awareness.
Something of its essence then transmits itself to you. You can sense how still it is, and in doing so the same stillness arises within you. You sense how deeply it rests in Being - completely at one with what it is and where it is. In realizing this, you too come to a place of rest deep within yourself.”
So the question is, how do each of you connect to the sacred rhythm of the universe? How do you find that place of “deep rest” or inner calm?
