The Calm Before, During, and After the Storm

Hope

/hōp/

noun

Definition of hope:

1: the expectation that one will have positive experiences or that a potentially threatening or negative situation will not materialize or will ultimately result in a favorable state of affairs (The American Psychological Association).

A little while ago, this story was told to me. A businessman was flying from New York to Seattle. Ironically, the trip was for pleasure. The man was known for many things, but mostly for being observant and for being a workaholic. The man was halfway through composing a PowerPoint presentation when he noticed a young girl sitting alone and coloring a book in the next row over. The man glanced up and down the aisle.

No parents. Just a content little girl, about nine years old, filling in the lines of a Disney scene. She bobbed her head back-and-forth to the song in her head, and from the slight grin she wore, it looked to be one of her favorites.  

After about ten minutes of casual observation, the man concluded that the girl was alone. While this struck the man as somewhat odd, he returned his full attention to his work, knowing that he had a job to do and only so much vacation time in which to do it. A few minutes later, the man’s fingers started to slip across his keyboard as the plane began to shake. “Choppy weather,” the man thought to himself as he added another slide to his presentation. 

The first bump went easily unnoticed. The second, however, was unmistakable as dark clouds surrounded the plane. The man looked over to the young girl; she remained content with her coloring, the same song apparently still in her head. “Just a little turbulence,” the man said. The girl looked over, smile intact, and nodded in agreement. “It’ll be over soon.” 

It wouldn’t be.

The man began taking slow deep breaths as the shaking increased. “In through your nose. Hold. One…two…three…four. Out like a straw.” The man puckered his lips and slowly released the air from his lungs. “In through your nose…”

“What are you doing?” The girl asked.

“Breathing exercise.”

“Why?”

“Helps calm me down.”

“Does it work?”

The man nodded, eyes closed. “Helps to regulate the autonomic nervous system. Lowers the heart rate. Decreases blood pressure. Helps you to relax.” The man took another breath. “You should give it a try.”

“Um, no thanks.” The girl happily returned to her book and the song in her head.

A voice sounded over the public address system. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. I've turned on the fasten seat belts sign and asked the flight attendants to be seated. We’re entering an area of turbulence and I would like everyone seated for safety. Thank you." The man quickly closed his screen, locked his tray table, and strapped his seatbelt tight. His fingers gradually dug deeper and deeper into the sides of his armrests as the plane now violently shook. “In through your nose. Hold…”

The girl continued to bob her head as she simultaneously listened to both her Disney ballad and the pilot’s instructions. As she placed her book onto the seat beside her, the song managed to work its way loose from her head and slip down to her lips; it was now being performed through that timeless musical expression: the whistle. And no sooner did the girl’s seatbelt click did the plane suddenly drop in altitude. Screams and other sounds of fright erupted from the passengers throughout the cabin. Only one little passenger laughed as if the dip was simply a part of the flying experience.

The man’s fingers started to cramp as he gripped the sides of his seat tighter and tighter. And while thoughts of his life, his cat and his poor work boundaries started to form into flashes before his closed eyes, he thought most of the whistling and how it was going to be the last thing he ever heard.

However, just as quickly as turbulence built, it quieted. The plane passed through to the other side of the storm and was once again flying smoothly among the clouds. The man opened one eye and then opened the other. He sighed. And while whistling would not be the last thing he ever heard, it would be present throughout the remainder of the flight.

When the plane landed, and the passengers began to disembark, the man approached the girl and asked why she didn’t react the same as the rest of the passengers. The girl smiled and said, “Because my dad’s the pilot and he’s taking me home.” 

Do you remember that group activity “Cross the Line”? The one where a statement is read and if it applies to you, you crossed a line on the gymnasium floor and faced those to whom the statement didn’t apply? It’s a powerful activity that highlights our similarities and differences, which usually ends with a greater empathy and a deeper understanding of fellow participants. It also usually leaves everyone emotionally wrecked. If we were to do this activity today, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, it might look something like this:  

Cross the line if you miss going places

Cross the line if your kids are getting on your nerves

Cross the line if your parents are getting on your nerves

Cross the line if an important event in your life was canceled

Cross the line if your hours at work have been cut

Cross the line if you lost your job

Cross the line if you’re unsure how you’re going to pay your bills this month

Cross the line if you know someone dealing with an illness

Cross the line if you’re struggling with an illness

Cross the line if you know someone who has died over the past month

Cross the line if you’re lonely

Cross the line if you’re scared

I think this activity would have all the expected results if we did it together: we’d empathize better, we’d understand more deeply, and we’d all leave the gymnasium emotionally drained. It’d be great. But great not only because of shared moments of experience or cathartic release, but also because of the opportunity to validate our pains—the opportunity to shout that we’re in the storm and it isn’t easy. I’m sure many of us would cross that line multiple times.

Cross the line if you’re scared

I wonder who among us would remain still. And for those who would, I wonder how they would explain their sense of calm, and if their reasoning would be similar to that of the little girl. I wonder if these individuals might say that it’s not the size of the storm but rather who’s piloting the plane that matters. When we find ourselves in the middle of trying and difficult times, we need to ask ourselves, “Who is at the helm?”

It’s interesting that that which essentially separates fear from hope is perspective—pessimism versus optimism—the difference between knowing we’ll crash and believing we’ll land. Now, hope and optimism don’t magically calm the winds and silence the thunder, but they do help us to weather the storm. The young girl in the story was not spared any of the hardships that the other passengers experienced. She was tossed, shaken, and rattled just like the rest. The only difference between herself and the others—the difference between their fear and her confidence—was her belief that she would arrive at her destination safely.

How we choose to interpret our circumstances, as difficult as they may be, is critical. Our thoughts and words carry with them a weight far greater than we often realize. Proverbs tells us that our words have the power of life and death, and 2 Corinthians states that we are to take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. And in the field of psychology, Sigmund Freud wrote, “Words have a magical power. They can bring either the greatest happiness or deepest despair…”. Freud also believed that automatic, non-introspective thoughts are the root of a person’s attitudes and experiences. Our thoughts shape our interpretations, and our interpretations shape our reality. I hope we can agree with the father of psychoanalysis and the Father of mankind that our thoughts have the power to shape our perspective, for better or for worse.

So, what will tomorrow hold? Your guess is as good as mine. Over the next few weeks, we may find ourselves faced with new storms—we may find ourselves qualified to cross that gymnasium line a few additional times. And if we do, let’s not lose hope. While I don’t know what the future holds for you or for me, I do know that this plane will land eventually. Soon enough, we’ll find ourselves on the other side of this pandemic. Perhaps we’ll realize that through it all, we learned a lot about ourselves, and a lot about others. And perhaps with this newfound perspective we’ll conclude that the journey was just as important as the destination.

Jeremiah 29:11 

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (New International Version).

Hebrews 4:15-16

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need” (New International Version).