I have been struggling, like many, to figure out my place in the middle of this natural disaster in western North Carolina over the past month.
My coaching mastermind group reminded me last week that this is the tagline on the back cover of my book, Sacred Celebrations: Designing Rituals to Navigate Life’s Milestone Transitions.
“We Need Community and Connection More Than Ever”
That’s right. We do. Desperately.
Person to person.
Human to human.
Family to family.
Neighbor to neighbor.
And one of my roles (in my city, in the world, on this planet) is to help facilitate this. To nurture this.
To reach out and check on people.
To invite people to gather and connect.
To attend events and experiences where I can look people in the eye and say “How are you, really?” and listen with presence and love to their story.
I’ve been doing that on a small scale in recent weeks (read below for more) and plan to do more now that I’m finding my footing in all this chaos.
I want to give you a glimpse into the random thoughts rattling around my mind every day over the past four weeks. As you read them, think about your own life situation. Perhaps you are not living in the middle of a natural disaster, but chances are good you have recently encountered some kind of change.
Change…whether it be big or small…brings up a lot of emotions. We are uncomfortable. We are forced outside of our comfort zone as we adapt to our new reality.
All these questions won’t apply to you and your current situation, but some of them will.
Questions/ What I’m Wondering:
What’s happening?
How do I take care of my basic needs?
What does my family need? (in particular, my daughter)
What aspects of life have been disrupted? (mine and others)
How can I carve out time to work in the middle of this chaos?
How can I manage the tsunami of emotions that course through me daily?
What’s the distinction between survivors’ guilt and survivors’ grief?
Is it OK for me to express my own anger, rage, frustration, despair?
How can I best help others while using my gifts and talents?
Am I doing enough?
Is it OK for me to just sit on the couch and cry?
Why is everybody politicizing this disaster?
Will the tears ever stop?
How will my city and this region be changed?
Are my fears for the future founded?
How will I and my family be changed?
Answers/ What I Know to be True:
Hugs help.
Tears cleanse.
Helpers are everywhere.
I am safe. I have a roof over my head, food on my table, and my family and friends are safe.
Living without potable water is a major life disruption. It’s insanely inconvenient, but it’s temporary.
We will rebuild.
People have died tragic deaths. Sadly, that is part of life.
Civilization has existed for thousands of years. It will continue.
Being witnessed matters.
All my emotions are valid.
Allowing the emotions to move through is essential.
I have a really good self-care toolbox and drawing from it daily helps me to keep moving forward.
We are grateful for the love and support of people around the country.
The grief is thick and omnipresent.
I have participated in several nourishing and life-affirming rituals this past week.
- I attended a candlelight vigil hosted by the city of Asheville. It was appropriately somber and hopeful. It was strange being downtown with only about 1000 other people. Only a handful of restaurants were open, people were talking and hush tones, and everybody was being kind and gentle with one another. Autumn in Asheville is typically high tourist season.
- I had dinner with my beloved book club—women friends I’ve known for 20+ years. We had not gathered together since the storm hit a month ago. We have all had very different experiences of the trauma. Some of us have children, some don’t. Some of us were here, some of us weren’t. Some of us had property damage, some of us didn’t. We talked and laughed and cried together. We witnessed one another in the same way that we have been doing so for 20+ years.
- I attended an Evening of Grief and Gratitude at Kanuga Conference Center (where I will be speaking in January), a community event attended by people from all over the region. I went with a few friends, but also made new friends while there. We did yoga, sang songs, and released luminaries into the lake… All outside beneath the trees and underneath the stars. We felt Mother Nature’s embrace.
After all three of those events, I felt calmer, more peaceful, more seen and less frenetic, overwhelmed and alone.
I encourage you to sit with the questions and answers that I have posed above. If there are a few inquiries that resonate for you, jot them down in your journal and see what arises when you allow yourself to open.
If you are feeling overwhelmed or uncertain in your life, maybe take a few minutes to write down the things that you know for sure. It’s a little bit different than writing a gratitude list. (which I highly recommend on a regular basis!) but somehow grounding yourself in the reality of what helps in times of turbulence, makes moving forward just a little bit easier.
Lastly, remember that community and connection matter. Don’t isolate yourself. Reach out. Talk with other people working out at the gym. Go to your book club. Call a few friends and plan a game night. Plan a picnic hike with your family. Pick up the phone and call a friend you haven’t talked with in a while.
Connection is critical in these uncertain times, no matter where you live.