Composure

I remember a story told of a man traveling in Africa. He had an ambitious agenda with a lot of ground to cover in a week's time. He hired three Africans to assist him in his travels. They moved rapidly for three days together, but on the fourth day, the three Africans sat down in the road and refused to go further. "Why?" asked the traveler, full of his agenda and his need to reach a particular destination. Their response was simple and profound: "We have moved too fast. We must wait here until our spirits catch up with us."

That story crept up and tapped me on the shoulder this morning. I had started my day early and by six am I could already feel my noisy thoughts taking me hostage. I was grappling with a word that would describe this discordant beginning to my day and I decided I was "un-composed." It is an interesting word, composure, because it implies several things. First, there is composition. When I think of composing something, I think of a creative act. That's all well and good, but where does this intersect with the idea of composure as the art of settling, of "regaining our composure?" It seems to me that one of the most important creative acts we can undertake is the act of regaining that composure, of settling the mind and beginning from a different source and working outward.

I needed to stop and let my spirit catch up with me, or perhaps just stop and remember that I AM spirit, and something much more than the chaotic jumble of thoughts in my head. My act of composure was creative. I literally needed to pause and re-create myself, reassemble the parts, and make a decide to lead with spirit and remember who I am.

Wherever you are, no matter how chaotic your day, I invite you to take a moment, even a breath, to pause and "let your spirit catch up with you." In regaining our composure we can compose our lives in new ways. The door is open. Won't you join me here where I sit, by the side of the road?