Leadership Energies: Calm Waters
Thoughts and Images - Natalie Shering
This image was taken at the beginning of September 2020, on the northern shore of Loch Sunart (the longest sea loch in the Highlands), which forms the southern stretch of coastline along the Ardnamurchan Peninsula. Àird nam Murchan is Scottish Gaelic for ‘headland of the great seas’. The 50-square-mile peninsula juts out into the Hebridean sea and the Atlantic Ocean, edged by spectacular cliffs and magnificent white-sand beaches, and is home to the most westerly point on the British mainland.
I was there for a weeks’ holiday in a cottage with my wife (then girlfriend), my sister and her partner, and my mother. We are a close-knit bunch, and even though my wife and I live 500 miles away from the others, we usually find ways to see each other at regular intervals throughout the year. 2020 however, had been very different, and this was our first time all together since the pandemic had arrived on Britain’s shores at the beginning of the year. Consequently, this chance to be with one another - to share meals and swap stories, to play games and to laugh at really terrible jokes, to listen to music and to purely ‘chill out’ (all the while being surrounded by the most beautiful scenery), was one that we had all been dreaming of for many months.
The craggy shoreline was ten steps from the front door of the cottage and the windows looked out onto the ever-changing seascape and the Isle of Mull beyond. Early one morning, before the midges and the rest of the household had woken up, I took myself down to the water’s edge, with a view to capturing with my camera some close-ups of the abundant, glistening, jewel-like seaweed, the elusive sea otters, and to having some much needed NRR* time. It was ‘Slack water’ which is (according to Wikipedia) “that short period of time when a body of tidal water is completely unstressed, and there is no movement either way in the tidal stream, and which occurs before the direction of the tidal stream reverses”. There was very little movement – a sea eagle was circling silently, out over the middle of the loch, and the only sound came from a gentle plashing of water against the stones and pebbles on the shoreline.
My eye was caught by this lone rock in the water: it had such a fabulous shape and was almost a perfect rendition in miniature of the mountainous land mass on the other side of the sound. But what really drew me in was the absolute stillness of the sea, and the rock sitting serenely in its place, surrounded and centred. The simple, exquisite image not only seemed to mirror the geography that surrounded it, but also my own energy state at that moment. With my rubber-shoed feet planted in the (almost warm) waters of the weedy loch and my slow, deep breaths being infused with cool sea air, I was at one with my environment: in these calm waters I was balanced and at peace.
Recognising and prioritising opportunities for quiet stillness (physical and/or mental), when we can be immersed in the moment and allow ourselves to just ‘be’, isn’t always easy. Our modern lives are full of responsibilities and requirements, and it can sometimes feel like a luxury to allow – let alone create - situations where we feel no stress and have no requirement for high-energy (This is not to say that being in a high energy state isn’t good. When we have ‘The Wind in our Sales’ - as I explored in the third instalment of this ‘All At Sea’ series – we can be at our best: happy to expend our energy in order to harness those metaphorical winds and realise frictionless movement towards our goals).
On the other side of the energy quadrant from the high energy/low stress sailing boats with their billowing sails however, sits the still rock in the calm sea: the state of low stress combined with low energy expenditure. This is another way for us to be at our best, and we don’t have to be on a retreat to be there. We can find ourselves in this state when we are engaged in work and tasks that are meaningful to us and that speak to our values and beliefs, but don’t draw too heavily on our reserves of energy. Each of us will have our own ways of being in this mindset, of inhabiting a space that puts us into this low energy/low stress space. It is worth us noticing when we find ourselves in that place, and responding by finding ways to be there more often. In calm waters, we can breathe and be still. It is during these times of peacefulness and quietude that we can reflect, as the waters reflect the rock, upon our state of being and our place in the world.
As I look at this photograph, and I remember the peace I felt, being ankle-deep in the ebbing waters on the shores of Ardnamurchan, I realise that seeking out opportunities like these - to be at one with our surroundings and to be still, to let our minds sit in the space created by low energy expenditure and an absence of stress - is vital for our overall wellbeing. It is in this state that we have the opportunity to rest our minds, to recuperate and to be held, suspended by the saline waters, in readiness for when the tide turns.
*NRR = Notice, Respond, Repeat: The practice of deliberately noticing what is around us, reflecting, and then responding with intent. Ad infinitum.
