The past thirty-six hours of strangeness twisted my gut in fear and anxiety. With my work email hacked and my internet connection screwy, I wondered what type of technological doom I had condemned myself. A furious change of passwords, securing accounts, alerting financial institutions to put locks on all sorts of hidden treasures took up most of my afternoon and late into the evening.
Work still expected deadlines to be met. Without access to my email, I would have no access to the students’ homework, and therefore, miss that deadline. That’s not something I would allow. Setting my alarm for 5 am, I tried to sleep. Tossing, turning, plumping pillows, fretting over the bad luck, and imagining all sorts of ways I would get to experience my demise, I finally scurried out of bed, flinging sheets and little dog to the floor. I made my way to the loo for a big glass of cold water. As I gingerly returned, avoiding dogs, toys, and other obstacles, I saw the moonlight walking across the pond’s surface not far from my deck. Opening the screen door and stepping out, all was quiet. The water undulated from a benign wind. Everything around me was perfectly still.
Within that stillness, ingenuity struck. I found a temporary solution to both challenges, an elegant solution, and, more importantly, meet deadlines while delivering an excellent service. Momentarily, I started to mentally kick myself for not seeing the obvious, but the stillness hushed that inner assailant.
As I look around at the world with its struggles, I wonder, once we put down the comfort of anxiety, if peace through stillness will move us forward.