In the midst of a storm, there is calm.
In the midst of violence, there is care.
In the midst of despair, there is faith.
In the midst of darkness, there is light.
I invite you to imagine a sea of turmoil and chaos, the world awash in raging waters on all sides, utter darkness day and night as all of life on earth is being destroyed. Hear the crashing of the water and the howling winds and screams of terror. Let yourself touch the fear, the danger, the violence, the destruction, the despair, the overwhelm, the utter impossible sadness.
A Spot of Light
And now see, amidst that storm, riding along in those turbulent waters, a tiny enclosed boat, a tevah, an ark. Perhaps first you see it from a great distance, just a fleck of something on the horizon, a single point of light against a vast darkness. And then maybe as you focus and get curious, it is drawn closer by your interest. Let it come fully into your vision and your consciousness.
It is sturdy, made of solid wood covered with pitch to make it waterproof, keeping all those inside dry and safe. Its light comes from a tzohar, a magical light-emitting stone (Genesis 6:16, see Rashi) that lends a glow to the whole ark, making it look like a sparkling star in the night sky. There is something that feels nourishing and kind about this ark, this light, yet also fierce and unshakable. Ah, you think, the light of faith that will not go out.
Entering
The door opens just a crack to invite you in – your attention and noticing and yearning are the keys to this door – and you slip inside. The shift is stark and immediate. The noise outside was deafening, the chaos overwhelming, the storm insistent. And then, as the door slides shut behind you – it is God who gently closes it (Genesis 7:16) – everything is hushed, utter stillness, quiet, calm. You have entered the ark of Noah, a traveling sanctuary of Rest, of Menuchah (a word related to the name Noah).
Slowing Down
The first thing you do is to slow down. The pace of the storm was wild and frenetic, urgent and demanding, but here it is as if time stands still, as if you fell through a trapdoor to another dimension, me’eyn olam haba, a taste of the world to come, no rush, just this moment of presence. Your breathing becomes slower and deeper as you release the tension and urgency of the storm, as the calm of this place begins to seep into your bones. Maybe you can still faintly hear the rain against the side of the boat, but it is soothing now, not frightening. You are safe here, floating inside this sanctuary. The waters may be violent outside, but here inside, they create a gentle rocking motion. You lie back and let yourself be rocked and soothed, resting.
You look up and realize you are lying under the tzohar with its nourishing healing glow, like a plant under the sun, opening all your pores to take it in, to soak it up. It’s ok. You don’t have to do anything to deserve this. Just relax and open and receive.
Comfort
It is so comforting to be here in this sanctuary. Zeh yenachamenu – this one, Noah, will comfort us, his father said when he was born (Genesis 5:29, a play on his name). There is indeed a strong element of nechamah, of comfort, here. We struggle to fight the storm of destruction and cruelty outside and are so comforted by coming into this refuge. It’s ok, the ark says to us, there is still light amidst the darkness. I know how sad you are, how hard you try, how hopeless and afraid you feel sometimes. Come now, put down your burdens for a moment. Know that there is still hope, still light, still goodness and nourishment and calm in the world. Can you feel that comfort in your body? Like a softening, an unwinding of knots, a release of tension. A big sigh. Oh, thank God. Thank God that amidst the storm, there is still an ark of peace.
Love
As you lie here resting in this ark, maybe over time, as you adjust to the new environment, you begin to pick up on some sounds and movements around you. The ark is actually not totally silent or still, you realize, but filled with the steady quiet buzz of nurturing activity, of animals being cared for and fed, of nourishment offered and received. This is an ark of love and care. While on the outside, violence, cruelty and thievery threaten to destroy the world, on the inside, there is a quiet counter movement of love. You thought the world was only full of corruption and injustice. Notice the helpers, the caretakers. Lying here in the ark, you participate in that love revolution, both receiving and offering the tender energy around you.
Perhaps, too, some of your own young parts and physical body (animal) parts are in need of such feeding, such care. Let them line up with the penguin and the armadillo and receive it, taking in what they need.
But What About The Suffering World Outside?
Maybe you think – but the world is drowning, what right do I have to rest in this ark of comfort and love? How will that help? And how does it help to fall into the flood along with the others?
I believe that you not only have a right to rest in this ark, but an obligation, that it is a form of activism, – to learn the way into this ark so that you can show others how to get there, to hold onto the value of rest and care as the winds pick up, to carry the torchlight that sheds light in all directions.
Becoming that Sanctuary
Because over time, as you dwell in this ark, in this sanctuary, you become that calm, that rest, that love, that hope, that light. You become that sanctuary. You, too, have a tzohar stone inside. Maybe it is deeply buried and covered over, and maybe its light is flickering at first, barely visible, but as you bring some focused attention and breath to it – breathing in some of God’s energy and support – it grows bigger and stronger, expanding to fill your body so that you are aglow with it like a lantern.
There is a light amidst the darkness. And it is you. Remember that point of light you saw off in the distance through the flood’s waters when we first began? That is you. Maybe you can imagine again a stormy night full of turmoil and rage, and feel yourself walking through it as such a light, maintaining your calm center. No matter what happens – the winds can howl and the rains can tear at you, all hell can break loose around you – you keep walking steadily and calmly through the night, your light shining around you as you go.
The Impact
And your light has an impact. There are ripple effects. Never doubt that. Be the change you want to see. The world is made of energy, and if you walk with calm and love, it changes things around you. In fact, I wonder whether Noah’s ark was what actually helped the flood to subside, whether it wasn’t the energy of rest and calm and care that slowly helped the raging force of the storm come back to center, a kind of co-regulation, like the way a tantruming child slowly relaxes and comes back into regulation when the child is met by calm loving centered energy. Noah’s ark offered that to the storm, and we can offer that to our own inner and outer storms. Not to fall into this flooding crying world, but to maintain our own inner harmony so that we can offer an opposing, holding, healing energy to the storm.
Rainmaker Story
David Zeller shares a story he says was often told by Carl Jung to his students. A village in China was experiencing a drought and so they summoned a famous Rainmaker to come help them. When he arrived, he asked them to provide him with a small hut and leave him alone. He sat in the hut and did not come out for several days until one day the rain started falling. They asked him what he had done. He explained that when he arrived, he felt that the place was out of harmony and that his own being was going into corresponding chaos and imbalance. And so he went into the hut and spent some time coming back into harmony inside himself, and once that happened, the outer environment responded and fell back into its proper alignment as well, and since rain was needed, rain naturally fell (The Soul of the Story, p. 61-62).
Maybe Honi in his famous circle was involved in a similar inner alignment work, holing up to bring rain, and perhaps this is how we should understand Noah in his ark, too, in his own way not a Rainmaker but a Rainstopper. When all is out of balance around us, there is a need to hole up in a hut, a circle or an ark and to come back into alignment, to assert again our own calm center, to rest and be nourished and remember love, to rekindle our light so that we can walk through the darkness with strength and perseverance, helping the world around us return to balance as well.
Be The Calm
And so, as we conclude, I invite you to return to the ark, to the sensation of coming in out of the storm and lying in peace there, and to take that calm restfulness with you as you go, offering it as an olive branch to heal our dysregulated world. Amidst the storm, there is calm. Be that calm, that light, that love, that comfort.
Photo by SAM LIM at Pexels
