In my twenties and thirties, I spent many hours on airplanes, traveling for work every 1-2 weeks. My least favorite part of flying was turbulence. I found bumps in the clear blue skies unsettling and, far too often, I experienced the sensation of landing in winds and thunderstorms. I never really got completely comfortable with flying.
Going through that turbulence also brought me experiences I never imagined I would have. I traveled to Canada, Europe, Asia, Alaska, Hawaii, and most of the US states. I spent months or years living and working in the San Francisco Bay area, the Pacific Northwest, Texas, North Dakota, and Norway. I saw that people are essentially the same and experienced different cultures. Without experiencing turbulence, I would not have the perspective I have today.
This March feels like flying in and out of those storms. There is turbulence in our country, in the news, in the weather, and inside of me. I’d like to land on solid ground, but we seem to be up in the air most of the time. March and April are often turbulent weather months in Kansas City and according to one local weatherman this March has been 8% windier than “normal”. It feels like 80%.
I don’t know what the political turbulence will bring in the short term or the long term. I do know that the wind and weather turbulence will bring the birds that have spent the winter in the south. Many birds will fly through Kansas City, specifically because we sit in a turbulent “flyway”. Many birds will stay here through the summer to nest, eat our bugs, and delight us with their songs.
The spring timeline is a little behind where it was last year. I looked at last year’s essays and noted that swallows had already arrived and I was watching the trout lilies closely so as not to miss their bloom. I walked down to check on the trout lilies yesterday and they and the bluebells are just barely poking their leaves up through the soil. The timing is a little different each year.
As I look at those tiny leaves and note the migrant birds that have arrived, I sometimes close my eyes and let myself imagine a world where the birds carry peace and beauty on their wings, the world I hope will arrive when this major turbulence ends. It will end, eventually. It’s so easy for my imagination to spin horrific endings - and boy does that happen with lightning speed - so I really have to practice imagining a world where love comes first and kindness reigns.
I work with the turbulence as it arises. I’ve developed habits of tensing against the turbulence, much like I did when I was flying all those years ago. These habits have left my body tied in knots and constricted my energy. Tightening up in a ball feels powerless because so much energy is going into constriction.
When I feel the turbulence hit, when I feel that pang of fear rise up, when I feel my body constrict, the first thing I do is acknowledge it and do my best to welcome it. Don’t get me wrong, I want to resist it. I want to make it GO AWAY as fast as possible, but after years of trying that method I’ve finally accepted that welcoming it is a necessary step no matter how little I want to.
I’ve learned techniques to help me be with it. Ironically, the same techniques I was using in my failed attempts to push it away can also help me be with it. Breathing. Shaking. Tapping. Qi massage. Walking. Talking out loud to myself. Rocking. Somatic exercises. Music. Dancing. Smiling. Tense and release movements. The techniques are the same but the intention is different. Trying to make it go away - fighting - is rigid. Welcoming it in and allowing it to be here is soft. This is where peace starts.
Some of these techniques I’ve been practicing for a few years, like Qigong and walking. Some of these techniques are new to me, like tapping and the tense and release movements I’ve been learning in physical therapy. Sometimes I use more than one at a time - talking out loud while tapping and walking, for instance. Sometimes I do them with headphones on while listening to music or guided meditations. Sometimes I just listen.
The hardest part for me is to remind myself to welcome it rather than trying to make it go away, especially when it’s strong, especially when it doesn’t dissipate quickly. The techniques help me be a little calmer in the storm, they don’t necessarily make the storm go away. Sometimes, if I stay with them long enough, the energy will come down. Often, they will help me sleep. Sometimes they just help me relax a little bit into what’s there.
I practice these techniques when I am not in turbulence and when the turbulence is small, so I have a better chance of using them when the big bumps hit. When I wake up in the morning, I spend two minutes breathing with one hand on my heart and one on my belly before I ever get out of bed. I imagine the energies of love and kindness moving through me. I imagine the world I want to see. I imagine being a bright beacon of light.
I practice when I’m walking at the lake. I practice healing sounds, qi massage, singing (which also moves energy!) and sometimes tapping while I walk. I let the trees remind me to extend my roots into the earth and let her nourish me too. I listen to the bird song and remind myself that the universe is singing a song much bigger than whatever discordance humans are creating.
I practice while I’m doing qigong, letting myself perceive the swirling energies and colors as I move. I practice moving out the stuck energy and moving in bright, coherent, calm energy. I imagine building my light, nourishing my energy and strengthening my aura so I can carry that light in the world.
I practice when I’m doing my PT exercises. As I tense and release my muscles, I imaging my mind also tensing and releasing, letting go of whatever I have been holding on to.
I practice before I go to bed, releasing the energies of the day, smoothing and settling my energy, getting out of my head and feeling my feet connected to the earth. I lay down on the floor and let myself sink, imagining myself coming home to the nest.
Moving the energy of peace, love, and kindness through my body is a practice, a muscle I am strengthening. I wasn’t really ready to level up, I was struggling with life as it was, but here we are. Nothing to do but keep practicing.
What practices do you use to help you manage inner and outer turbulence?
I'm with you—turbulence raises my anxiety both in life and on a plane. Walking, exercising, reading, talking out loud, and writing are helping me find balance. Your photos start my day with a glimpse of what is good in the world.
I have practiced a lot of craft through my lifetime and can get absorbed into weaving, knitting, watercolors, writing, and various kinds of needlework. Working with colors feeds my soul. At the age of 76 it is also important for me to keep moving, walking, and stretching.
Thank you so much for sharing all the ways you ground yourself and reminding me of the importance of making my practices more regular. I have slipped into exhaustion and irregularity too often lately.