Community, Connection and Cake
I have recently returned from Germany, a trip which was inspiring and tiring in equal measure. I was visiting my daughter, her partner and their wee boy. She, with the help of her man and friends, put together a mini children’s festival – or rather a mini festival for children! (though many of the children were mini): an afternoon and evening of music, some of it live, face painting, treasure hunting on an island dotted with paddling pools, beading, butterfly painting, pony rides, home baking (grandma’s responsibility – 60 slices of vegan pizza, 80 cookies, 80 pieces of cake), plus a hot dinner, stories for bedtime and a fire. 70 people came, maybe more: families from surrounding villages, friends from Berlin, friends of friends. 40+ people camped on their land – half of them mini people – and the next day we piled into a trailer and a local small holder pulled us with his tractor to a nearby lake. Back home a lunch manifested itself out of nothing as everyone shared what they had.
Love Matters
Why am I writing to you about this? Because I’m deeply touched and because I think loss has a way of bringing love into clear relief; in fact I think grief and love are inseparable.
In my last blog I wrote about how love matters. It does. Love moves mountains, cares about others, love inspires and brings the best out of us. What I witnessed was my daughter’s love of community, love for her family, love of creativity and the manifestation of her love of life into something both tangible and intangible. We all left feeling warmed, befriended, nourished, ‘better’ people.
I was touched by lone fathers (several of them) tending their little children; by young lads who usually cycled bored through the village, wanting to help and being trusted and respected to do so and then by seeing their pride and shining faces at having helped to pull the whole thing off; by people putting up their hands to do things and following through; by my 14 ½ month old grandson sitting proudly on his daddy’s lap to help him play the drums; by spontaneous generosity (not least the tractor and trailer trip); by the financial donations which just exceeded the 1000E outlay; by people sharing all their food so that there was a feast – loaves and fishes came to mind- essentially, I was touched by people giving willingly and with love.
Beyond Imagination
4 years ago, in grey and desolate grief, I could not have imagined this riot of colour and vitality in my life.
3 years ago, in the isolation of lockdown, I could not have imagined connection and community of this richness.
2 years ago, I could not have imagined a little person in my life, who lit up my heart so sweetly.
Even a year ago, I could not have imagined that bumping along in a trailer, wedged in with 40 others, I could think, “I am happy”.
There are times in our lives when happiness seems to be gone forever. I know that true happiness is deeper than jolly or beneficial circumstances. This was. This was happiness borne out of gratitude and appreciation, understanding the gift of family, community, love and connection. This was tapping into a quiet joy within, which is often buried beneath the weight of innumerable burdens and trials.
Harvesting inside and out
Today we have been picking blackberries – that’s the dog and I. He carefully picks them from the lower branches, as I entangle myself in the thorny arches bearing the big, black, juicy fruit above. It is something I used to do with my children before they headed back to school for the autumn term. It is an activity I remember fondly and so it is a harvest, both in the sense of memory and of the fruit themselves (and gosh I love apple and blackberry in any form). As we head into this time of harvest and as I myself am in the autumn of my life, I think often about what I am harvesting. Perhaps that’s another blog but for now it’s enough to say that I will remember in the years to come, those days of sunshine in a tiny German village with my family, and not just the occasion but also and especially the feeling that went with it. And I hope that I will also remember, even in the dark times, that the sun, inside and out, doesn’t die. Dreams may die, loved ones sadly too; the clouds may be thick sometimes and seasons will turn. And yet… and yet, miraculously, love happens, community happens and joy happens.
To my darling daughter, who lost her brother 5 years ago when I lost my son: thank you – for your faith in life, your courage to live it and the generosity of your beautiful heart.
With my love to everyone,
Nickie
News and Notes
September is here and with it the beginning of my year long, in-person Wise Women Circle. It feels like it’s been an age coming, but here it is, a full group and ready to go!
Later this month, Emma Capper and I are beginning our Walking with Loss, Together, series. There are 3 places left. For more information or to book, click here and then scroll to the event.
Notifications look dodgey
And finally, I am aware that the fortnightly email which arrives in subsribers’ in-boxes, notifying you of a new blog, looks a bit dodgey. It has been coming from ‘My company’ and has a warning notice. I am so sorry. It is because it comes from a plug-in on the website rather than an email. I have changed the ‘sending company’ to my name, so I hope very much the notifications don’t go into Scam folders, but I can’t do anything about the warning notice. Please be assured, though, it does have all the protective ‘stuff’ it is supposed to have and is fine and safe to open. Just click on the link and it comes straight to this website.
Summer blessings all around Nickie
Thank you, Roland. xxxx