In a riveting true story of survival and redemption, author Lauren Hillenbrand's Unbroken tells the story of Louis Zamperini, Olympic distance runner and World War II Army Air Corpsman whose bomber was shot down in 1943 over the Pacific Ocean. He and a crew mate lasted 47 days on a life raft, at one point, floating near the Equator where the North and South Pacific meet. Sailors know this area as "the doldrums," because winds vanish, vessels stall, and – seemingly – nothing happens. But something happens for Louis Zamperini. After fending off sharks, watching his crew mates perish, and battling starvation and dehydration, Zamperini experiences a moment of profound peace and quiet. In that quiet, he discovers divine clarity and connection, a touchstone for him years later when finally healing from his wartime trauma. In quiet, "nothing" became a lifeline.

Are we in the doldrums? The drama of the election is behind us and inauguration succeeded. Vaccine is on its way, but most of us have weeks or months to go before we receive it. In our exhaustion, we hope we never have to live through a winter like this one again. But what if we never do get to live through a winter of imposed quiet like this one again? Will there be anything in retrospect that we long for?

Our practice is as much about the moment as it is about the breath and body. In this moment, doldrummy as it may feel, it's possible that celebrating the quiet — such as finding appreciation for small experiences of beauty on a grey winter’s morning in the soft glow of a fireplace or sweet hum of birdsong outside — could make a healing difference. We know many of us are struggling, hanging on for life in these dark, deep, scary waters. We also know, that finding glimmers of hope can help now, and serve as touchstones later when life returns us to solid ground.

~ Annie Moyer