I decided to focus my third issue of Mystery’s Voice on finding an abundance of peace. Little did I know that the week after that decision would be a challenging terrain in which to practice. In this issue I explore how to calm our troubled core and become full of peace.
My Mysterious Mind
It’s been an intense couple of days, with my emotions in the peaks and the valleys in rapid succession. My mind is processing incredible opportunities parallel to terrible possibilities. My spirit soars with delight, only to plummet into the depths moments later. All of these reactions are normal, given the circumstances entering into my world in a compressed time frame.
Can I write to you from this place? And, if I do, what words can I draw forth? As my brain scrambles through the possible routes ahead, some wonderful and others painful, can that same brain produce something organized and inspirational? With a heart overflowing with a myriad of opposing emotions, can I provide an emotional path for others to follow? While my spirit is faced with the extremes of wonder and difficulty, can something helpful emerge from it?
Yes, my brain can provide something useful and organized, informed by a heart that is alive and healthy, inspired by a calm and joyous spirit. How this is even possible is a mystery to me. And, yet, I sense it is true.
Within my being there is great peace. I can’t explain it. I don’t understand it. I didn’t put it there. My mind is overwhelmed and my heart is overflowing, but, at my core, I am full of peace. Things have been coming at me that buffet me in different directions, producing laughter and tears, excitement and sorrow. And, yet, I am calm, surprisingly calm.
Message of Mystery Acres
Being in the forest trained me to be calm. No matter how much anxiety was stirring in me, I would arrive in the forest and calm would flow through me, pushing away the restlessness. Somehow, no matter what was happening in my life, in the forest my world seemed OK again. During the shutdown of the pandemic, our weekly trips to Mystery Acres were my way to find sanity. The man-made complications of life were left at the edge of the woods. Everything in the forest is exactly as it should be. All is well there. Always.
Sometimes it is raining. Other times it is hot and dry. Some days it is cold and the ground is blanketed with a sparkling carpet of snow.
But every day is perfect.
After one trip I developed a terrible case of poison ivy all over my legs. I had never had a bad reaction to poison ivy, but, now my beautiful forest had attacked me. I wondered if this would change the way I felt about my forest. I wondered if I would be able to know peace there again.
Mysteriously, the ordeal of miserable itching didn’t change anything in how I felt at the forest. It did teach me to know where the poison ivy was growing and how to respect its effect on me. But I loved the forest just as much as before.
What’s more, I thought about how it might be good to not depend on the forest as a source of deep peace. Maybe I could find that same feeling without actually having to drive 77 miles from my home to get to it. Maybe I could remember the way I felt in the forest and teach myself to “find” it anywhere.
And so I did. It turns out that peace isn’t a place, it’s a state of being. I can be really sad and have peace. I can be scared and have peace. I can face the unknown without solutions and be at peace. Mystery Acres calls to me and says all is well. That doesn’t mean that everything feels good or goes the way I want it to. But, no matter what, an inner core of calm is possible.
The message from Mystery Acres is the message of being at peace. Storms come. Heat scorches. Snow falls. But peace is always available. The voice of the forest says, “All is well.”
Ancient Mystery’s Voice
“My peace I give you.” (see John 14:27)
I have received a lot of gifts over the years, as I am sure you have. With Christmas approaching, I am trying to find gifts for my family members and friends, preferably ones they will want to keep, and better yet, to use and enjoy. Is there a perfect gift for each person, something they won’t secretly give away or try to exchange?
One of the disciples, John, who was directly trained by Jesus wrote down many of His words. John’s book about Jesus is one of the four books of the Bible called “the Gospel.” Gospel simply means “good news.” The full name of John’s book about Jesus is called “The Gospel of John.”
In the fourteen chapter of that book, John wrote these words of Jesus: “I leave peace for you; My peace I give to you. I don’t give to you as the world gives. Don’t let your heart be troubled or scared.” He didn’t say we had to try to be good and He would give us peace. He didn’t say He might give us peace if He felt like it.
His gift of peace was just that: a gift. And it was better than any peace circumstances could bring. He offered the gift of peace and wanted it to drive away trouble and fear from our hearts. With this gift, if received, the heart would be calm and brave. No matter the circumstances, all would be well.
The Greek word used for “troubled” is a water term; it means “agitated” or “stirred.” When Jesus offers peace to our tumultuous hearts, He is offering something that calms the reservoir within us. The agitated contents within are soothed, very much like when He told the stormy waves at sea, “Peace. Be still.” (see Mark 4:39)
Ancient Mystery’s voice is offering a gift of peace, a gift so strong it fills the heart and mind to push agitation away. He says, “I give you peace” so you can be peace-full.
Living in Mystery
Being full of peace sounds great, but how do you get there? It’s helpful to think of peace as a liquid and the core of one’s being as a reservoir. That core reservoir is the source of thoughts and emotions. When that core is full of peace, thoughts and feelings of peace are possible. Being full of peace doesn’t mean all of one’s thoughts are positive and all of one’s emotions are pleasant ones. That isn’t how peace works. But being full of peace emanates forth as a calmness and a sense of wellness.
I like to think of that reservoir as shaped like an old-fashioned soda bottle or a wine bottle. The top opening is narrow, with a wider container below. I imagine the source of peace is a faucet of water. If I stop and allow the peace to flow into the small opening, I can be filled. The bottle won’t fill quickly if it moves back and forth beneath the stream.
That’s why becoming full of peace requires a state of stillness. Literally, for most people, to receive peace requires stopping and sitting quietly. Peace isn’t a gift thrown at a sprinting receiver. It’s hard to catch a pass when in motion; the most skilled can do it, but better to start with easy “hand-offs.” Sitting quietly doesn’t mean doing nothing, but it might. For me, I have learned the art of quieting my being and letting peace sink into my core.
Easy ways to be receptive to peace are simple activities that can be done with little thought. Such activities include coloring in an adult coloring book, working quietly on a needlework project, or making and kneading bread. Sitting on the edge of a lake waiting for a fish or in the woods watching for a deer are outdoor examples.
As an old mom to young parents, I encourage you to prioritize quiet time, even if it’s just a few minutes, where you are still and allow your peace reservoir to be filled. Parenting is quite draining; your peace reservoir is likely depleted every day, sometimes very quickly. I wrote in a journal often while raising my children. Granted, most entries started with, “I am so tired today,” but the writing helped settle my troubled core.
At this point in my writing my world was disrupted by the critical condition of our beloved dog, Ollie. In less than 48 hours he went from eating breakfast and playing with our other dog to being in surgery and me getting a call that he was receiving CPR. The technician who called me wanted to know about the next steps of the surgery, which were more complicated than the vet had known. I tearfully said, “Let him go.”
For the next hour my husband and I grieved at the loss of our fur-family member. We sent text messages to our closest friends and to our children and their spouses. A flurry of sympathetic messages flooded our phones. My husband and I scrolled through pictures of Ollie, sharing the joys we had with him and mourning the abrupt end to his time with us.
Then, unexpectedly, the vet called to tell us Ollie was alive. As I write this, he is making a surprising recovery at the emergency animal hospital. He’s still in critical condition, but he ate breakfast and was able to stand for a few seconds. When we left him last night we agreed to a DNR order for him. I woke many times during the night and just prayed this simple prayer: “Please keep his heart strong.”
During this roller coaster of emotions, I sought peace in the middle of the wild ride. The message of “something better” kept playing insistently in my mind. It was loudest during that hour when we were certain we had lost Ollie. It got me thinking about the first two issues of Mystery’s Voice. In Synchrony, I wrote about living “in synch” with the rhythm of nature. That rhythm includes seasons of life and seasons of dying. The last issue, Convergence, was about how pleasant and unpleasant strands of our lives can be woven together into something beautiful. This week I decided to write about being Peace-Full and then was taken through a tumultuous storm.
“Something better.” This life is so hard, but the hard parts are being used for “something better.” The hard parts are also somehow “something better” than the alternatives we cannot see. That’s the message of peace and comfort during the troubled times. “This” troubled time isn’t something good, but it is, or will be, part of “something better.”
Being “peace-full” is to have an inner stillness, even during times of crisis or loss. This core of peace isn’t agitated or stirred-up. There may be great sorrow. There may be huge unknowns. But peace at the core holds onto the assertion of something better. Living in the mystery of peace requires a stillness of a surrendered will. The mind at peace accepts the reality of the unknowable. The heart at peace realizes the pain and joy of being alive are inseparably intertwined. The spirit at peace yields to a vast, incomprehensible wisdom of “something better,” even when the eyes are unable to see it.
Connecting with Mystery
Dear Lord of All Mystery, this life is a wild ride sometimes. Life’s roller coaster of emotions can swiftly shift my heart from excitement to terror and back again. All these ups and downs can make my heart stirred and troubled. Please help me to allow the peace You offer to settle and fill me. Help me to trust in a “something better” You are offering, especially during the times when I cannot imagine it to be true. Thank You for calming my troubled core and making me full of peace. Amen.
Notes from Dr. Mac
If you want to do your own investigation of any of the scriptures I use, I suggest you go to Bible Gateway. This free online version of the Bible allows a search of words or phrases in various translations. If you have never read The Gospel of John, I encourage you to do so.
You can find previous posts of The Adventure of Reflection at ARCHIVE. You can find the first 64 issues in an organized compilation at Reflective Adventures: Volume One in the “My Books” section of my Substack.
There’s a picture of me with Ollie in a previous post entitled Smile: https://cindymacgregor.substack.com/p/smile
You can write me at: Dear Dr. Mac, by leaving a comment, or through the Substack App. I love to hear from you!
