Truthing in the Time of Corona: Pandemic Part II: The New Abnormal Series
I believe truth is a verb, an action we choose to move towards or away from every day. That when I move towards my truth, I am often confronted and scared at first, my story-making mind concocts tales of both splendor and drama all in one continuous loop. Yet another far more subtle quiet but persuasive voice says ‘listen to me,’ cause if you don’t you’re living a lie, and all the affirmations, brown rice, conversations with strangers, goal setting sheets, and hilltop proclamations won’t make that go away. And that voice is ALWAYS right. Because when I move towards truthing, I feel a tangible relief, a deepening in my breathing, and freedom of my spirit.
I’m always on the lookout for truth, in my life, in others, in the universe. And this weekend another truth hit me right between the eyes. “In every day, week, month, and moment I get to experience the full breadth of life.” Today’s post is titled “A Life in a weekend. Life in a nutshell.
I arrived Friday night to see my gorgeous, ancient, 35 plus feet regal white elm crashed to the ground post Elsa. The only one on my property. So many thoughts swirling through my mind. Why weren’t its roots strong and deep enough to weather the storm? Thank god it didn’t hit my gazebo, my house, or most important… anyone! And why didn’t it hit the dilapidated eyesore tool shed that needs to be torn down anyway? What must other people be going through who were literally in the eye of the storm?
Don’t mess with Mother Nature. We are always messing with Mother Nature! What followed were new action items on my forever growing things-to-do list. How will I move it? How much will it cost?
Whenever life gives me a challenge, I’m always touched by the Army of Angels I have in my life. My dear friends Kim and Pat, my neighbor Agnes, keeping us updated on power outages, damage done, and resources available. Fast forward forty-eight hours later I found myself at the Rock Valley School House, a 100-year-old schoolhouse, complete with cursive drawings on the wall, original school desks complete with hand-carved graffiti from the last century, and pot belly stove, and now christened a historical landmark and performance space.
I close my eyes and hear the amazing Jay Story and Andrea Lodge, performing their Newfoundland Kitchen Party Concert. Collectively they play 5 instruments, the small but mighty audience is chiming in with percussive from clapping hands and thumping feet with a call and response style event. I’m quickly falling in love with a genre of music I never really heard before, Andrea’s songs and stories of the hearts, souls, and oral history of her Newfoundland, (the same town that the Bway musical Come From Away is based on) and Irish roots.
I’m seeing a group of young women dressed more like a maypole festival thumping their feet and urging their friend Iris to share her gifts of Iris/Gaelic polka-like movements. Which thankfully she did! I’m reminded of the power of music, oral history, legacy, and good ol fashion in-person gatherings to transport a group of people into an instant community.
The singer casually ends her set in an “enjoy the rest of the day” and people politely clap. Dressed in my Annie Hall meets Pippi Longstocking attire jumps to my feet and starts hooting and hollering, and quickly the rest of the group does the same. Never miss an opportunity to celebrate generosity and talent and give others the little nudge of permission they need to do the same!
On the long drive back alongside River Road we feast on breathtaking views of thick layers of fog blanketing the massive evergreens and roads peppered with baby deer no bigger than most people’s border collies. I am reminded how my entire weekend was a microcosm, a reflection of my life.
A life that while filled with adversities and setbacks, and unforeseen incidents I didn’t sign up for is also filled with rich opportunities for growth, support, beauty, and adventure, all meshed together in one little or big life.
I get to choose every minute, day, hour, or year, to embrace all of what life brings me, the setbacks and the magic, and when I do that, I’m living in my truth.
How about you? What does living in your truth look like for you?
I’d LOVE to know!