That is the
title of one of Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s first books, about her navigation
experiences with her husband but it is a phrase I say often to myself as a
Chinook blows in over the western mountains.
We are having such a wind today and I find it unsettling with poor
concentration being the outcome.
Notwithstanding that perhaps talking
about feeling unsettled is the premise for today. A person may set a goal for the day but find
that time spins out of control for a variety of reasons with the end result
being nothing that was planned gets done.
It’s important to not feel frustrated when this happens and though it
may be a platitude things do happen for a reason. If the wind drives you to distraction so that
you cannot concentrate on the task at hand perhaps the best thing to do is take
that distracted energy to use as exercise or something else that does not
require focus. Whatever the outcome of
the day brings try not to despair that it was a wasted day because something,
surely, came out of the day, if only a weak sense of survival.
There are days when I simply crave for
quiet, to find some good reading material and sink myself into the book while
shutting out the rest of the world, including my own brain. I then pick up “Gift from the Sea”, “The Four
Agreements” or “Simple Abundance” as my comfort food. Calibrating my life back into focus in a
gentle sort of way, leaning on the wisdom of others who came before me. Then I have a mental sigh of peace and feel
that I can go on with the day, my life, the new task at hand.
Life is survival.
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