The Dust Settles

"Settle" is a loaded term, associated somehow with defeat.  In fact, a good number of people today will cringe when they even hear the word.  But what's the heart of this idea?  Why the repulsion? Are we ravenous for control? Revolted by the thought of throwing in the towel?  Smitten with the notions of what we want life to be like and allergic to anything in opposition to that vison?  What is it to settle?

Good ole' Ed Poe wrote a story that touches on settling, about a sailor and a sinking ship.  Not in a way that you might immediately associate with the term, but in a way that advocates leaning in to what we may be avoiding.  Perhaps the answer is tucked away beneath the placid waters of our day.

In Descent into the Maelstrom, Poe's sailor learns an 'insane lesson in chaos management.'  As he spins wildly toward his doom, flailing in the midst of one of the most monstrous whirlpools you can fathom, our sailor lands on a wonderful thought: He cannot fight the chaos, nor can he conquer it.

And then something happens. Once the sailor "settles," once he gives in and steps back and peers on the mad beauty of it all, he finds a sort of union with the chaos.  He gains new eyes, noticing that certain objects aren't exactly sinking.  He begins to hone in on the poetic, yet orderly, destruction around him.  Beauty becomes the only way out. That and latching himself to a sizable barrel.

The lesson, I gather, is that finding an order to things is not the same as control: in fact, the Maelstrom cannot be controlled and neither can the madness of our days. Escape is possible only through joining in the chaos on its own terms, leaning in and letting go.  That's when you start to see. 

We settle when we say, 'I choose this because I might as well,' or "nothing better is coming along, so hey..." but settling itself is never a true possibility, because change is inevitable and we're always swept away again amidst the chaos, no matter where we sit.  Sure, some people sit longer and own their lot, say "this is my life."  But are they really content with it, or are they, in fact, still unsettled?

Contentment comes more from a sense of peace with the reality of a situation, enjoying your place for what it is in space and time, but open enough to know that change is afoot, and ready at the helm when those winds do come.  I'd rather be at peace with my lot than put stock in the notion that I've "settled."  You can choose your words as you wish.

A point: You should never knock contentment or happiness that sneaks up on you; you may just have found a good thing, so lean into it.  It's a surprise, I'm sure, to find a dash of joy in an arena you've been avoiding, or one you never saw in the cards, but it would be folly to push it away once you've bloomed to it.  You need to continue to strive and grow, and your path will certainly be dictated by where you "settle" and what you can learn there.  You should also understand that your original desires will evolve and guide you out of your current state.

Change is the only constant, and you will be guided forward, willingly or holding onto the floor. Your choice.  Be that down the street or otherwheres, have faith in the unfolding of your story.

I went hiking a few weeks back and felt a good shift happen.  Flooded in a series of epiphanies, I think I re-found myself, oddly at peace with the woods.  As the old hymnal goes:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Keep holding true, my friends.  If nothing else, be content that you are part of life, and find joy - wherever you are - in bearing witness to it.