Rooted in Revelry

I’m a reveler. I’m reveling in the joy of early spring and in the delight of being here to soak it all up, be a witness to all the beauty. I took my first early spring walk by the James River this morning. Oh, the sounds! Click here for a little sound snippet. I was aware that the birds were singing their hearts out. I could even hear the geese off in the distance, taking their early morning flights over the river.

I met a neighbor on my walk. He’s worried about a variety of things, not the least of which is the pandemic. I listened and heard what he said, and I acknowledge that things haven’t been easy over the last two years. I can relate on a very deep and personal level. Over the last year, I took on some significant life changes, including the bittersweet end to a long-time, loving partnership. And, just for fun, I decided to throw in a move and a job change.

Did the changes unravel me? Yes. Were they painful? Yes. But there was more than that. The unraveling led to a reawakening. I’m learning to sit alongside whatever decides to plop down next to me. I’m more comfortable with discomfort. My experience of joy happens more often.

Somehow, the river, birdsong and quiet settled me a little deeper into myself this morning. And I’m fully aware the chaos continues on the outside. But it’s okay. I am deeply grateful for being here in this moment. Right here, right now.

I saw this beautiful tree along the river’s edge on my walk with all its roots exposed. It inspired the poem below:

I am rooted, like a tree.

I have always been here.

I am connected to water, soil, sun, wind.

These elements have shaped me, sometimes

almost uprooting me.

But still, I stand.