10/06/24 23:00 Seemingly tiny but enormous truth.

Today I heeded the suggestions of many of you and turned toward some self-care. And on many levels this felt like an unfair indulgence. And I don’t have to explain why. You know. Because nearly everyone I’ve talked to feels the same way. We are all overwhelmed with the feeling of doing more, volunteering more, donating more. Like enough isn’t ever going to be attainable in this disastrous condition we all (and yes, I do mean all because I don’t believe anyone is really untouched by the ever-reaching affects of what has happened here in western North Carolina) find ourselves facing.

Nonetheless, some very dear friends of mine (if you’re reading this...you know who you are) offered some respite in the forest. A hot meal, time with friends, a general break from being inundated by the call for help. The most special part of this visit...included a walk on a trail in the forest that led to a creek. I so desperately needed to put my hands in the mountain water. To stand barefoot in the creek and feel it again. To hear the trickling sounds of it again...in spite of the reminder in the background as a helicopter flew overhead.

There was grief in my heart, there was grief in the air. And today was the first day since Helene arrived here that I could stand in the stillness of the forest again and listen. We grieved together she and I...the forest and the flowing waters and the rustling leaves on the ground. I’m tearing yet again as I write this.

Reaching out and touching a nearby tree after pausing to be present in this moment. There was a recognizable stillness, a calm about her. A very composed calm. And what a beautiful reminder to me that even the hardest things can be grasped after the initial maelstrom has passed by.

On the walk back...a group of the tiniest little purple wildflowers (not totally sure but I think they are called “Smooth Astor”) caught my eye. I stopped dead in my tracks. They were such a beauty to behold. And as I often do...I spoke to them.

“Well, hi there,” I said as tears welled up in my eyes.
“How did you beautiful little things survive this? How are you still here?”
And they said, “We are here to show you just how resilient Nature is.”
And I said, “Thank you for still being here and showing me this seemingly tiny but enormous truth.”

Photo credit: Dan Mullen CC BY-NC-ND 2.0