There is nothing like the sound of the open ocean crashing against the rocky coast of Maine. Listen for a minute and you will hear the rhythm, the pace of the sea water as it hits the shore. Day in and day out that water comes in and goes out, in cycles as regular as anything on Earth. Two high tides and two low tides each day, predictable years in advance. At anything but the highest of tides, you can see the tidal marks of the water at last high tide. There is something so regular, powerful, beautiful about it, that in this one place, I sense the entire ordering of the universe, the incredible gift we have been given – life – is impossible to miss in this place. Almost anything can be going wrong, crisis upon crisis and in this place by the ocean, I am, in the midst of chaos, at peace. I feel connected to all things. I become at peace with all people because I know in my heart the temporal nature of our existence on this planet.

If I have painted well, you will sense that this is a magical place for me. One that without effort or energy creates calm and an over-riding experience of loving kindness. The problem is that I don’t live by the ocean. I live about an hour away, inland in the lovely rolling hills of Litchfield. Sometimes I am in Chicago or Newark or New York, long distances from my instant tranquility machine. In those moments, I have learned that I must be able to recreate the ingredients of this experience by the ocean in order to be as focused and useful as possible in the world.

It may be that for you the place which creates these special feelings of oneness with the world and tranquility of the soul has nothing to do with the ocean. For you, it may be a particularly beautiful garden that you tend with all your heart. It may be a range of mountains so beautiful that it takes away your breath. It may be a glass-smooth lake, just when the fish are feeding. It may be a machine, so awesome in its detail that the majesty of human imagination is unavoidable. For each of us it will be different and for each of us there is usually a place, a magical place where peace, calm and being centered come naturally.

Over the years, I have learned ways to capture the feeling of these special places and recreate them in places that bear no resemblance to the ocean: in hotel rooms in the heart of huge cities, in distant lands or simply at a client’s site in new territory. It is my experience that there are three ingredients which comprise this special, renewing feeling of caring for the soul.

The first component is the spiritual nature of the experience. When I am at the ocean, I feel the incredible gift I have been given, to be alive, awake and able to communicate with loving-kindness. For me this is a gift from God. So I read the Bible, fives versions so far. I have read the Qur’an, the original teachings of the Buddha, The Course in Miracles, The Kabbalah, the Tao, The Counting of the Omer and The Book of Mormon. While the influence of human beings is discernable in all these texts, reading other’s experiences and stories reminds me that all people throughout time have worked to understand the spiritual nature of our existence. It allows me to know that we all consider the nature of our existence. The more I am aware of this, the greater my compassion for all beings, no matter where I might meet them along the path.

The second ingredient is a sense of connectedness. When I am not at the ocean, any gift of nature, trees, plants, even a six inch square of earth will produce the experience of inter-connectedness. I have an inspiring, angel-winged begonia in my office. It is well over four feet high and four feet wide. If I look at it carefully, the growth of its leaves, the shoots that become beautiful flowers and the delicate nature of its water supply system, I am blown away. I think about the soil it grows in, the air it purifies, the water it requires. I realize that my ancestors are in that soil, part of that water. We are life, inner connected in everything we do and touch. It reminds me that there is nothing I do not impact and that I am impacted by. It reminds me that the children dying of hunger and malnutrition are my children.

The third ingredient is the process of introspection and a recognition that the only thing I control is how I am going to be today. At the ocean, the power of the experience reminds me of the power within me. Away from it, I read books that remind us through questions and inquiry about the gifts we have been given. My favorites are in the “What One Person Can Do” collection: Thich Nhat Hanh, Don Miguel Ruiz, Greg Baer, MD, Marianne Williamson, Rachel Naomi Remen and James Nachtwey. Recently I finished Nelson Mandela, In His Own Words, an edited collection of his speeches and Emmanuel’s Book II, The Choice for Love. I read anything recommended to me, that helps me realize that the way I am being is up to me. Through this process, I become clear about what I can do something about and that which can be released. There is tranquility in knowing the difference.

The final part of the process is simply to remind myself that I need to be gentle with myself. All I can do is the best I can do. Taking the time to get centered, to revisit what my purpose on the planet is and see if how I intend to be today will further that end creates a sense of peace. Every once in a while, during a day, I will get so wound up in the doingness of life that I forget about the gift of it. I find myself reactivated or upset about something that has nothing to do with me. When I am conscious in those moments, I realize I am stuck, I back away from what or whomever I am dealing with, take a deep breath, remind myself of the tranquility of my soul care, get centered and return to the moment, this time truly being present.

For me, in order for the re-creation to be effective, I need to set aside time before I begin the day. In this way I can frame or contextualize the day before any interactions with people. For ten days recently, I had a four month old guest living with me, so I had to adjust my rising and soul-care in order to be able to anticipate Noel’s internal clock and clear demands. Easy, no; possible, yes. Four children; more demanding, still possible. Other times of the day work for some people, the majority find morning returns the greatest advantage. Once you have truly mastered the space of self-care, each moment of everyday becomes a self-care moment.

Having said all that, be mindful that no one but you can determine what is the best self-care, soul-care for you. They cannot tell you what it should contain nor when it should occur. You will know that you are there when you are able to access, at least once a day, a sense of tranquility, peace and purpose that soothes your soul.

It is our hope that these edited writings will be of use along the way.

To request a copy of Care of the Soul, send an email to bill@oneperson.net