“You cannot change the wind, but you can adjust your sails.” — Shirley Johnson
I have had a few of those weeks lately. The kind where life seems to be blowing from directions I did not order. A plan falls through. A loved one needs more support than I expected. A door I had counted on opening turns out to be a wall. I bet you have had a few of those weeks too.
When that happens, I notice that my first instinct is to argue with the wind. To stand on the deck of my little boat and shake my fist at the sky, as if the wind might hear me, get embarrassed, and reverse course.
It never does.
That is when Shirley’s voice arrives in my head, quiet and steady, the way she says everything important. “You cannot change the wind, but you can adjust your sails.”
This is the first of the six mantras Shirley shared with me, the wisdom of a woman in her 90s who has weathered more storms than most of us can imagine. (If you missed the introduction to Shirley and her six mantras, you can find that story on the blog.)
Here is what I love about this one. It is not “just accept it.” It is not a polite spiritual bypass that asks us to pretend the wind is not blowing. It is something much more powerful, and much more practical. It points us back to where our energy actually belongs.
The wind is not ours to move. The sail is.
That truth alone can change a hard day.
When I adjust my sails, three things shift. I want to share them with you because I find that I need this reminder regularly, and you might too.
- The sail of my perspective.
I cannot always change the situation, but I can change the angle from which I am looking at it. Is there something here I am being invited to see? Is there a softer way to hold this? Is there someone in this moment who needs my warmth more than my opinion? Often the answer is yes, and the simple act of asking opens a window I did not know was there.
- The sail of my response.
Wind has wind. I have me. I get to decide what I do next. I can react in panic, or I can pause and breathe. I can fire off the angry text, or I can sleep on it. I can spiral into worry, or I can take one small action that returns me to my own agency. Shirley says, when the wind picks up, you do not abandon ship. You trim the sail.
- The sail of my next small step.
This is the one I lean on most. When everything feels too big to figure out, I ask, what is the next small step I can take? Just one. Not the whole plan. Not the next ten years. Just one small step today. That single step is almost always within my reach, even on the hardest day. And once I take it, the next one usually shows itself.
There is a quiet faith underneath this mantra too, at least for me. Whatever you call the Power breathing through us, that Power has not gone anywhere when the wind picks up. It is steady when we are not. It is steady when our sails are flapping. We do not have to feel calm to be held. That has saved me more than once.
Here is something else. The wind eventually changes. It always does. The storm I was sure I could not survive last year became the chapter I am most grateful for now. Not because the wind got polite, but because I learned to sail.
So today, if your wind is blowing hard, I invite you to take one slow breath with me. Place a hand on your heart. And ask yourself one question: what sail can I adjust, even just a little, right now?
It might be a perspective. It might be a response. It might be a single small step.
Whatever it is, that adjustment is yours. The wind cannot take it from you.
This, to me, is what Standing Tall really means. Not standing rigid against the wind, but standing rooted enough in love and community that we can flex with whatever weather comes. We do not stand tall alone. We stand tall together. If you feel called to come closer, share this story with someone who is in the wind today, reach out to a neighbor, or support our community in any way that feels right, we welcome you with arms wide open. Every small adjustment of love adds up to a world that holds us better.
Next week we open Mantra Two: “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” It sounds simple. It is not. But Shirley makes it feel possible.
Until then, may your sails find their angle, and may your heart stay soft.
With love,
Colleen
