in the eye of the storm

"One of the seven characteristics of a wise person is that he responds to first things first and to last things later"  - Pirkei Avot 5:10

Menuchat HaNefesh. On Tuesday afternoons, right up until the bell, I have the distinct pleasure of learning Mussar with Rabbi Elana Kanter.  Mussar is the practice of Jewish character development.  Each week, we examine another middah or character trait.  This week, it was menuchat hanefesh or equanimity.

That term - menuchat chanefesh - stirs a memory within me, as it was the phrase I chose when studying Middot at a Wexner Heritage Program learning session with Rabbi Elka Abrahamson.  Menuchat HaNefesh - it was my chosen trait.  The one that I wanted to work on the most at that time in my life - probably at this time in my life too, probably always.  We were told to pick a trait to focus on and to pick a phrase that would mean something to us as we continued to work on that trait.

Calmness of the soul.  Who wouldn't pick that?  An easy phrase to repeat over and over, in moments of storm when we were trying to stay connected with calm and in moments of peace when we recall our efforts to arrive at this place.

Today, as we sat and learned about calmness - which is not the action of extracting all tumultuous things from your life but, rather, facing those tumultuous events with even stride - I could not help but think of the rapidly approaching 3 o'clock hour when all four of my children would return home from school.

I knew that even with the promise and hope of calmness in my heart, the after school hours are chaotic, unrhythmic, and - often - troublesome.  It is difficult to manage assistance with multiple homework assignments, squeezing in the Judaics for which I have chosen to homeschool this year, and to complete chores and dinner preparedness in the few short hours we have before we need to start showers and bedtime (and did I mention play time?  It is really important to me that my children have let down time and time to unwind and play).

The swirl begins around me and I try to summon the words of wisdom that seem so easy when you're sitting in a room filled with magical women, nodding their heads, and sharing their perceptions.  Stay in the eye of the storm, like a surfer riding a surfboard....

I imagine tree pose from yoga and the voice of the yoga teacher, talking about how easy, calm, and still the pose looks.  But inside?  The muscles, the determination, and the focus do not display themselves on the peaceful face of the person striking the pose.  Can I do this amidst children beckoning me for help, water boiling on the stove, and one last email I realize I didn't send.

Watching  - and listening - to the swirl around me, I try not to react.  How shall I be involved with out reacting?  How shall I calm the loudest of the chaos which is that stirred within me?  How will we get it all done without me panicking at the time, ensuring order in the actions of my children, or entering a state of denial and ignoring everything we 'have to do'.

If I get up from the homework table, my children follow suit and soon I hear them in the other room - wrestling and giggling and, then, yelling at each other.  This is what I want, isn't it?  For them to unwind?  But, what about their homework?  It has to get done.  And, it's better to get done in the daylight hours than in the moments before bedtime when it becomes a panic to squeeze all remaining necessities into the day.

It is an eternal internal struggle, and a motherhood rhythm I am constantly contemplating, tweaking, and reinventing.  It is a paradox of sorts - the answer is yes and no at the same time.  The answer becomes the process.  The cultivation of calmness brings ease with chaos.  From the soul to the mind and back again.  Recreating our afternoon structure, in search of the routine that flows peacefully, will - ultimately - bring me peace of mind.  And peace of mind will make the need for order in the afternoon obsolete.

"Peace of mind is one of the greatest pleasures a person can have; lack of peace of mind can make one's life constant torture."  - Rabbi Simcha Zissel