~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
You are the essence of gaiety and delight.
To stand inside your citron arms
is to banish every residue of sadness
and every wish for something other than
this golden, shimmering now.
Your lemon-lime leaves sing the music
that my heart has so longed to hear.
And I dance to you, oh great one,
with my heart dancing to your song.
First comes spring, the great out-breathing
of the winter’s dreams. Then
summer, the inhalation of light
to feed and grow them. Now,
autumn, and the out-breath of
the earth, carrying its completed
forms until the winter rest,
the deep inhalation, in whose
darkness earth conceives new dreams.
It took only minutes for the accident to unfold. But after it, everything my friend Holly and her husband had known as their life had irrevocably changed. He was okay, but first responders had to help him crawl out of his totaled truck.
At first, there was the shock of it, and then the clearing of debris, the assessment of damage and of what was left. It’s no easy task to figure out what to do with a seriously altered reality. I watched to see how my friends would cope.
“It’s another pit in the road, for sure,” Holly said. “But we have shovels.” Those words were enough to assure me that they would find their way. What she was telling me was, “We can cope. We can do this. We have been through trials before.“
Believing in yourself, in your strengths and your resilience, is the first step in moving forward.
A couple years ago, a storm demolished much of another friend’s farm. As she worked to adapt to her altered world, she kept repeating to herself, “This is my life now.”
The life she had been living was gone. But her mantra helped her to see, first of all, that her life was still hers, however changed.
Repeating “This is my life now” let her see its changes from a fresh perspective. Instead of surrendering to the situation in hopeless resignation, she realized this altered life was hers to live and welcome, whatever it might hold. She was free to do with it whatever she chose, and she chose to live it as creatively as she could and to uncover all the possibilities it presented.
Life can slam the door on our familiar lives at any moment. It brings devastating weather, accidents, illness, loss, betrayal, wrecked plans. But it’s never what happens to us that counts; it’s how we respond to what happens that matters.
We learn things about ourselves from our trials, about what truly matters to us, about our capabilities and values, about the depth of our faith.
Nevertheless, the shock of sudden and unexpected change can be painful. That’s when it’s important to remember that HOPE stands for “Hang On, Pain Ends.”
As the pain of shock lessens, we begin to adapt to our altered reality. We pick up the pieces. We learn to pace ourselves, to conserve our energy, to look for resources, and helpers, and ideas. We learn to be patient; recovery takes time.
The fact is life goes on – even when we wish it didn’t. The direction it goes depends, to a very large extent, to how open we are to seeing that every setback, every obstacle opens the door to new possibilities. The key is to look for what’s good, to draw on our resilience and ingenuity, and to keep on keeping on.
We get to decide who we want to be in the face of the unknown. We can see ourselves as victims or victors, to be overcome by our circumstances or to be one who overcomes them and turns them to good. We can fall into the pit in the road or remember that we have shovels.
Wake up saying, “This is my life now,” and welcome it for all the potential it holds. Then do your best, moment by moment, to squeeze all the juice from the day that you can. Life’s a crazy place. But it holds as much joy as sorrow. Be brave and bold. Dare to claim life’s goodness and beauty. Every day that you get through has its gifts. Every day you’re alive, you’re a winner.
Wishing you courage and peace.
Warmly,
Susan
Photo, property of author’s friend
I walk the hillside gathering twigs
that I will use as tinder for fires
on cold nights, an autumn custom
that I began a couple decades ago.
The air carries the fragrance
of fallen leaves and coming rain.
For one brief moment, the sun
breaks through the layers of cloud
and I turn to see it kiss the treetops
as they dance, tall and bright,
against the charcoal sky.
I add the moment to my twig bin
along with a fallen gold leaf.
Remind me, I say to it,
the next time that I touch you,
of this warm and shining day
when I saw the sun brushing
the mid-October leaves
and watched them shimmer
in its light.
You show us our greediness, autumn.
We walk through your perfect falling leaves,
through the exquisite textures and colors
of you, grasping the moment so tightly,
wanting it never to end, or at least to slow
so we can take in every detail. And yet
the dance itself is at the heart of the beauty.
And the song can only sing if
we let the music play.
Beneath a cloud-heaped sky that dwarfs them,
the cattle graze, happy for their still-green pasture,
the cool air. They may be oblivious to time,
but like the autumn trees that edge their world,
something deep within them knows the seasons.
Perhaps vague memories of winter float
through their minds, long days in the dim light
of the barn, feeding on hay, soaking
in the warmth of each other’s bodies.
Perhaps they smell the coming snow.
Nevertheless, today the pasture is wide,
the grass still green, and they are content,
grazing beneath the wide big sky.
The way they lined the roadway
in the spotlight of the sun,
vines wrapped around them
like fine silken scarves,
they reminded me of ladies
from the 40’s, parading down
the sidewalk on a Sunday afternoon,
flaunting their fashions, showing off
their style.
There they lie, empty, fallen forms,
floating on light,
their days of summer suddenly gone
and all too soon.
And here we stand, railing at the cold,
at the emptiness their going leaves behind,
clinging to it as if by clinging
we could roll back time, and see them
dancing still.
Yet, even in our grieving, beneath its depths,
we hear their laughter and their songs,
blending with the Yes that dances
within us and beyond,
where time has no meaning
and love wears no form.
The world is in Humpty-Dumpty mode,
teetering precariously on the edge of the wall,
and today strong winds blow and fire shoots through the air
and explodes from the earth,
and dense clouds of surreality sail through the air.
Nevertheless, an island of peace rises from the calm lake
and the colors of autumn sing.
Looking back on this September,
in the year of 2024, you may think
of firestorms and hurricanes, of lives
destroyed or irrevocably changed.
And you may be tempted
to let sorrow overwhelm you.
Life is always tenuous and danger
often near. Our lessons in compassion
come with a great price. But
may you also remember, when
you think back on this time,
that its days held golden leaves
and sunflowers dancing to the song
of a gentle breeze, and that,
as she was leaving, September
left blue stars, shining from the grass,
love notes to remind you
that life goes on, and you, truly,
are precious and loved.