The Day After

November 7, 2024 12:05 a.m.

Yesterday morning the sun rose. Like it always does. I got out of bed about 1/2 hour before sunrise and looked out the window, the first weather report. Like I always do. The sky was lit up in brilliant rich shades of orange. I went downstairs, had a drink of water, went to the bathroom. Just like any other morning. Then I made the mistake of opening facebook and seeing one brief post from a friend. Disbelief. Shock. I was appalled. Deeply saddened. Scared. What? No. How can this be? I went outside to watch the shifting colors as the sun rose higher. Rich orange to gold to rose and lavender then lemony yellow. I felt the weight of despair push down on me even as I reveled in the beauty of the new day. How could I go on? How could this happen? I sang the morning song anyway. Like I do every morning. I gave thanks to the new day, Mother Earth, the waters, the air. The air was still. No breeze. The usual November birds not moving around the yard. Even the normal morning traffic sounds were absent. We were all holding our breath. I told my husband that I was so afraid, so very afraid, so sad but deeper and bigger than sad. What to do? I sat at the computer and did my gratitudes. Like every morning. Checked the weather statistics. Just like the day before and every other morning. Watched a squirrel eat a mushroom as I looked out the window. I went through the motions of getting dressed, eating breakfast. My stomach was in knots. My heart heavy. My breathing shallow. I stood outside, feet bare, connecting to the heartbeat of Mother Earth. I disconnected by watching an episode of some show. Went outside. Stood bare footed on the grass. Read some of Walks Tall Woman. Stood on the earth again. Read a chapter in a novel. Wandered around the yard. Read the quote by Mahatma Gandhi multiple times: “when I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fail. Think of it, always.” Checked in with Jaska. Confirmed our supper date. Called Linzy. Ate lunch. Wandered up the street to admire the witch hazel blooms. Talked to my neighbor. Took a reading nap. I gave myself the gift of being gentle. The gift of allowing grief and despair and uncertainty. I looked fear and darkness in the eye. Hello fear. Hello darkness my old friend. What I did not do is read lots and lots of news. I did not tell myself to snap out of it, stop being sad, scared. I did not even have a screaming rant. I allowed the grief. I allowed the despair. I allowed the fear. I admired the beautiful colors and patterns in the sunset as I stood in the parking lot with Jaska. Then we went to supper and, as we usually do, spoke of what was in our hearts. We touched the fear and sorrow with kindness. Then moved on to talking about the essence of who we are, our Orendas, our star pieces, the essence of who we are, shining, believing in love and goodness. That essence that keeps us going when the world around us looks like shit. When we are weeping snotty messes, broken hearted. Star pieces. Light within.

I tell you the grief is there, quieter now, a bit more in the background. The fear is still there but not so loud and unruly. I have looked the despair and the fear in the eye and said, “I see you and you will not stop me.” I spoke with Andy about my essence of love and light, of knowing how to connect with it and knowing how to teach others to connect with their own. I can do that. I will grieve when I need to. I may even feel the weight of despair. Be angry. Feel useless. And I will continue to allow all of that to be seen and heard and felt. I will continue to look fear in the eye and follow the path of love and light. As Jewel sings in ‘Hands’, “…gather the light that darkness most fears.”

I am the Light and the Light is me.

When I falter, I will listen to music that reminds me of my essence and the goodness of others, inspires me. I will call upon the Light Beings, gather my Tribe.

Together we Rise and Shine. Together.