Centering

Have you said goodbye to coworkers in your office who have been "let go"? Are you worried about losing your job yourself?

In September 2008, after a summer of bank failures and bailouts, the stock market crashed. I watched in alarm, as my friends did, while our retirement funds lost value. By October 11, the head of the International Money Fund warned that the world financial system was on the brink of meltdown. Businesses found it hard to borrow money to meet payroll. Americans, who were panicked, stopped spending. That meant there wasn't as much demand for stuff on the shelves of stores. So companies that make the stuff started laying people off.

If you still have a desk and a computer in an office, consider yourself lucky. But maybe your job got more difficult. When your coworkers left, maybe you picked up pieces of their jobs. So gone is the sliver of time when you used to get coffee and chat. Now you're answering the phones. Or doing the xeroxing you didn't used to do. Maybe demands pile up and you're juggling three duties at the same time. Maybe, even, you have two jobs and you're picking up extra tasks at both. Maybe you feel a tightening in your throat and a tensing of your shoulders. Maybe you fear you'll lose track of it all.

Jesus was in demand all the time. He only had three years to do his work, but he took time to go off by himself. He prayed. He spent downtime with his friends, the disciples.

The question is, how can you get away. And when?

Although you might not be able to take long breaks, you can resort to a place of tranquility in your mind. Jesus must have recollected quiet when he was in the press of the mob.

The peace of a quiet, running stream, the five minutes of prayer in your shower this morning, the brief time you took to read and think about a poem last night, the serenity of your daughter's hand in yours—you can "go" there.

When all the world is chaos around us, we don't have to feel chaos inside. We can still feel centered and still. Wherever we are, whatever deadlines we face, the peace of God which passes all understanding will guard our hearts and minds (Phil. 4).

Poetry helps remind me of this. When there is too much chaos, poetry centers my mind. The overexcited mind is like a sparrow trapped in a supermarket. This is the central image of a poem I wrote recently.

Take a moment in the bustle of your daily activities. Stop, read this poem, and find a stillness that feels true.

CENTERING

Remember, the frightened sparrow's
flapping finally calmed into a pattern
just before it found the window and
escaped. I mean, while we squinted
and pointed in the dairy aisle,
that trapped mind did circle, after all,
in louvered sunlight. Think of
the housewife's rag circling a window pane
one lazy morning, or a painter's thumb,
smudging his purple sunrise with
little blushing clouds. It's the return
I'm talking about. Getting to do it over.
Black cat circling her cushion,
antediluvian duo whisking
the ballroom floor like brooms,
or lips looping oh, oh, oh, mouth
in love with the sound. Oh, after
a while it feels inevitable,
the long blue pull of the mind
that keeps finding more in less
until the will bends and circles
home to stillness that feels final, true.

Questions for personal reflection, online discussion, or small groups:

• When does your work feel the most overwhelming?
• How can you create space for moments of peace and centering and prayer in the midst of a stressful schedule at work or home?