Recently, a friend and I took a brisk walk punctuated by a “pucka brush” adventure. We ambled along a wide trail under trees, jumped over poison ivy, picked off stick tights, sweated and stepped in “scat”. Charming.
We spotted the most diminutive caterpillars ever – now officially named “toddler wooly bears”.
We paused to admire what I tentatively have identified as Polygonia comma (Eastern Comma) and Speyeria aphrodite (Aphrodite Fritillary) butterflies as well as Monarchs and Swallowtails.
Through the camera lens we captured Joe Pyeweed and goldenrod blooms against the dark woods green.
And, I came home feeling tranquil.
The afternoon was consumed with computer work, trying to figure out how to….you name it. Thank goodness Winding Pathways has an excellent Web Developer who, even at long distance keeps in close contact and fixes the “whatevers.” By the end of the evening I felt drained.
So, I wondered, what is tranquility? Defined as “The quality or state of being calm,” I have decided that tranquility has many faces. A person can be active yet tranquil – think running meditations or wandering though the “pucka brush”. The repetitious movements of ironing or gardening can be tranquil. Sitting quietly and watching industrious insects gather nectar and pollen, hummingbirds chase each other and rabbits forage on clover all can be tranquil.
Any activity that neutralizes the angst, the compulsive “gotta do” state that we regularly live in and transforms it to a sense of peacefulness can promote tranquility. But, this state of being is ephemeral and elusive.
Just as the early spring flowers bloom and disappear within a few weeks, tranquility will seem to pass all too soon. Are we failures? No. Like these tender blossoms it lies just beneath the surface. And, like the spring ephemerals, tranquility will return especially when we “tend the soil” so to speak. We can choose to access the state of tranquility any time.
Herein lies the elusive. To allow tranquility to touch us takes a certain amount of awareness and surrender. Allow the active mind to flow into settled stillness. Not emptiness – stillness.
Think of the ocean buffeted by winds and storms, cris-crossed by boats and littered with floating detritus. The surface is often rough and turbid. Not far below, currents flow more slowly and water begins to clear. Objects sink through the water. Heavier ones land on the bottom. Lighter ones, like silt, plants and plastics, hang suspended somewhere in between. At the depths of the ocean submarine currents move slowly influenced by density and temperature differences. Our thoughts can be like that, too. At some point our minds like water become clear.
To best access the state of tranquility, remember its ephemeral nature. We are not “less” when we are un-tranquil. We are just “on the surface” of daily activities. Grace and ease lie just below this patina of our exterior nature. So, we can choose to surrender into tranquility and be the ease, grace, joy and empowerment we are meant to be.
For me connecting with nature helps me attain tranquility. With the Laughing Labyrinth in our front yard the transition is usually simple. Then, I flow with ease, grace, joy and empowerment – even when I have stepped in scat.