Going backwards in history, I was stricken by the synchronicity in this day through the years.
In a way it reminded me of WS Merwin’s Poem “For the Anniversary of My Death.” (Link to the entire poem is below the essay, here is the first stanza.)
Every year without knowing it I have passed the day
When the last fires will wave to me
And the silence will set out
Tireless traveler
Like the beam of a lightless star
Last year at school, this happened: a student who was walking behind me said, “Well you are a miracle.” I had forgotten a student gifted me with that observation.
Two years ago, I experienced the morning after there was a big thunderstorm which morphed into a nightmare that there were tanks rumbling down the street I live on and a war had begun here, in Sussex Borough. I had only recently arrived back at the manse after five months in Bakersfield. The five months were originally a 9 day trip. Instead, I stayed on-and-on, tending to a variety of crises and lending my helping hand and heart where it was needed. I wanted to prove to my family I held them and their needs close, even when I live far away. Those five months were treacherous emotionally and physically and I rose up to each clang on the bell marked “this is yours to figure out.”
I put my head down and figured things out.
Three years ago I visited Antietam, the Civil War Battlefield and was incredibly moved. I prayerfully hugged a tree during my visit of this historic field I don’t remember learning about, but I must have, right? I would have been taught about the battle where so many American soldiers died?
I wrote a haiku four years ago in honor of a high school friend who decided she didn’t want to live anymore. In the haiku I wrote: “remember to say her name” so today I will say Lynn Oliver’s name, she was the one who had her locker above mine during my sophomore year at Dana Hills. She was a woman so smart and intense, who I was reminded by because I somehow happened upon her mother’s obituary and wondered how her life was after Lynn died.
Five years ago, a few days before I entered the hospital, I wrote this gratitude list:
I am sooooo grateful for….
1. Water.
2. Breath.
3. Friends who push me, one of the most stubborn people on the planet, to do things I normally wouldn’t do. And my children are always my motivating factors. I love you guys with everything in me…. thank you for taking the rough draft of half of my DNA and improving upon it.
4. Emotional healing. God and I were chatting today and if I didn’t know better, I swore I heard an apology: “I’m sorry for the whole pneumonia thing, but there were some nuances you hadn’t explored yet… so…. yeah. Sorry.” With that apology comes my apology to Emma Jordan-Scott who has probably been victim to my intermittent snoring and/or loud crying since about 3 pm.
5. Taking time to physically heal. Resting in bed watching videos tonight instead of celebrating the arts locally.. All is and will be well.
I didn’t realize then how challenging this was only the beginning of the illness, not healing toward the end, but resting until it took it’s almost fatal turn.
Most of these moments were recorded solo, like a lone explorer instead of a delightful collaboration or a partnership to provide support. I learned to lean into a spiritual collaboration in leadership with my highest self which has continued – and continues as do the lessons from these events from five years ago to now.
WS Merwin’s Poem: On the Anniversary of My Death at the Poetry Foundation Website
What lessons are you continuing to learn?
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