When everything feels like an emergency

It is always good to have an emergency plan. 

Every organization has a detailed plan for what to do in a crisis – some plans are posted on the wall; some organizations run drills to practice exactly what will happen in an emergency.  

Every time you fly on a commercial plane, every passenger and crew member is reminded (again!) of the emergency protocol.  

These are prudent things to do. It is good to know where your nearest exit is when things don’t go according to plan. It is important to remember that the nearest exit may be behind you.  

What do we do when the crisis occurs in our own mind? What do we do when we find ourselves overwhelmed by the headlines, to-do lists, and the increasing speed of the world? 

I have three things that I go to when, as Wendell Berry writes, “despair for the world grows in me.”  

First, I hold something very old. I have a rock on my desk that I picked up on the shore of the Scottish island of Iona several years ago. Conservatively a billion years old, some say as many as three. I hold this rock when I need to come home. I hold this rock when I am sinking in emails and obligations. I hold a billion-year-old rock and imagine all that this rock has seen. It takes about four seconds to remember that I will not remember the emails I sent in just a few weeks, let alone years. It takes about six seconds to remember that I will not be remembered in a hundred years, let alone a billion. What is an old item that can bring you home? 

Second, I listen to this song. It is an instrumental piece by a group of stunning musicians. The moment at 1:22 is what I imagine heaven will sound like. It takes me about that long to come home to myself. You are welcome to use this song or find your own piece of music that helps you take a deep breath, instead of the short, shallow gulps of air we normally take.  

Third, I read a poem. Almost any poem will do – if it is written by a real human being with real human experience. Great poems are always particular – one particular poet writing about their particular experience and, in doing, connecting it with a universal human experience. One of my favorite poets is Teddy Macker. My go-to emergency poem is called “In The Garden.” After describing the sights and sounds of his garden as well as the sights and sounds of his children, Macker writes this:  

To let myself in, oh let myself in,  

into the beauty of our days, 

as if I am not the terrible one,  

as if I, like everything else, belong. 

I am not suggesting that this emergency plan will work for you. It is tailor made for me after years of trial and error. You have your own ways of coming home to yourself. 

How can you develop your emergency plan? What steps can you take to ground yourself in the onslaught of the world? How can you tap into the peace of Christ “that passes understanding?”