Friends, allow me to invite you into this secret garden. Let’s take a walk and look around. We can enjoy silence, or talk about life. Would you like to join?
It’s been a quiet span of peaceful days here in Lake Lure. This garden you’re seeing is a result of massive rainfall and flood warnings, all which has resulted in these extra brilliant colors of green. Flowers are in bloom, leaves of Lamb’s Ear are softer than ever. The ground is nourished with vibrant soil ready to birth new roots and limbs of oxygen for us to breathe.
I see this garden to be symbolic of the past few months. Flood warnings are similar to the fear ingested among this global pandemic. After a long wave, many of our people have gone. Many fellow plants, they have floated away into the river and onto the next part of their soul's journey. Among their departure, it is here that new life is being born.
What do you see now?
Is there anything symbolic to you in these flowers?
Mother Earth's complexion appears more radiant today... after the storm.
I’ll tell you, my friend, I’ve walked this path many times but have never seen it so dazzling. With that, I’d like to share an experience with you.
Last Thursday I had a bad day that later resulted in an extraordinary blessing. Let me explain.
First, a fairly heavy Bluetooth speaker dropped on my foot. Just after two rounds of ice and some bandaging, my power went out. I looked at the clock and realized it was only an hour till my next lesson with my composition mentor. I’d been excited for this all week, in fact, I’d already finished my assignments 4 days before (on the night of our previous lesson). Without too much thought, I packed my guitar, computer and manuscript paper ready to drive to the resort and use their WiFi. My foot was rather fragile and limp, but nothing that would stop me from attending the lesson.
Half way to the resort I was stopped by firetrucks and a tree down in the middle of the road. This lovely tree had knocked out the power lines, they were doing their best to fix it and asked me to turn around.
I chose to see this as an opportunity for creativity and headed home to my cabin. One hour into a timed practice, my phone began showing a signal.
I figured why not, I’ll do a quick live stream and say hi to everyone. Two songs later, I clicked offline to discover that my Bluetooth speaker was on for the entire duration of the stream. *If this means nothing to you, just assume that the sound was warbled for the entire performance, and I had to immediately delete it. 🤷♀️
Without the thought of giving up, I decided to try again. 30 minutes was spent getting the GoPro Camera in the perfect spot to not hear the loud generator on the other side of the house. I matched that spot with the perfect light before sunset and thought, “It’s on now!” Feeling good about the camera angle and what I wanted to play, I started recording with “Live Stream take 2.” It was going well, for a minute... until my camera died. 🤷♀️
Well, apparently mercury was in retrograde that day. I took a flashlight up into my studio to find the power supply for my GoPro. I remembered it being plugged into a certain outlet near my guitars, and was bent down on my knees looking for it. The plan was surely to bring it downstairs and charge it with an outlet attached to the generator, and do live stream take 3.
The good news is that I found the power supply. Unfortunately, however, I stood up too fast with great enthusiasm, and severely hit my head on a QSC K12 Speaker. This took me to the ground hard, I cried like a baby, and at that point decided there would be no live stream that day. Even worse, the phone signal was back to “no service” zone, and WiFi wasn’t working even with the generator.
I laid there on the floor for a while trying to make a call. At least 10 tries, and the phone lines were completely down. I’ll have to say with such a head bang in the middle of a rain storm and power outage, this got me pretty shaken up. I felt alone, saw stars somewhere through the darkness, and panic started to arise.
I took many deep breaths, then a few more until I calmed down. I gripped to find my balance, and after a few tries was able to stand up.
For several hours after this head bang I could not make a call. I’ll be honest that I no longer cared about live streaming, my camera or the lessons missed that day. The only thing present was this large bump on my head, tears that wouldn’t stop flowing and the constant rejection of my phone on multiple attempts to reach out to someone.
During that time, I laid on my couch in deep silence. There was a lot of deep breathing as I soaked in ice packs on my head, neck and foot at the same time. Somewhere in there I probably laughed a little at the irony of the situation, although not for long, as laughing seemed to make the headache worse. I breathed a little deeper.
Believe it or not, among unstoppable discomfort and body aches, when that power came back on at 2am I wanted to record some music. I wasn't sure what exactly, but those raw emotions needed to be expressed somehow.
This forced burst of self healing declaration lasted for a couple of hours. Once adrenaline subsided, however, I noticed the computer screen increasing a massive headache that I couldn't fight. I closed the recording program.... and haven't opened it since.
The next day I showed up for a zoom guitar lesson with one of my greatest mentors of all time. I intended to work with my high school guitar teacher, John Michael Parris on my most recent composition “Bird Whispers." Strangely... I started to play, and could hardly remember the piece. My fingers didn’t seem to be functioning, and felt quite slow in response to what my brain was telling it to do. I went completely blank and felt embarrassed.
We moved on to other things. I started asking him about some pieces that I’m notating, and strangely recognized that my questions weren’t making any sense. I noticed that I just felt “off.”
Admittedly when I hung up from that lesson, I got straight in bed, hugged my pillows and cried hysterically. To feel that embarrassed and blank in front of a teacher was horrible to my integrity, and I couldn’t understand what was wrong. I did mention to him that I’d hit my head really hard the night before and didn’t feel right, then apologized for feeling off that day.
After enough tears to move through it, I called my friend Jenni. Jenni is a long time dear friend and wonderful nurse so I thought she might have some insights. I expressed that I was scared of what was happening to me, but even more apprehensive to go to a hospital and risk exposure to the coronavirus.
Jenni encouraged me to call my family doctor instead, and thankfully I was able to get a video appointment with the doc. Sadly, I was told that I was suffering from a concussion, and instructed to stay away from screens and go on brain rest.
I have to say that "putting my brain in a sling" has been quite challenging but also nourishing. Last week’s stream was cancelled, and I apologize for any inconvenience. Resulting in this experience, all future streams will be cancelled until further notice and I look forward to coming back soon.
As of today, I’m thankfully feeling a little more like myself. I’ve stopped drinking coffee to avoid stimulation, have not read any books, have barely played guitar, and little by little am feeling normal again.
Yesterday I visited this garden. I’ll admit that I’ve been here many times, but I’ve never seen it in the same way. I sat on this swing for a long time and looked around. I admired the majesty of the mountains, the song of the river, the mystical fog in the sky after several days of rain. I looked around, and did nothing. Just me, the swing, the breeze and beautiful flowers. No thoughts, just presence.
Slow and steady, I’m finding my balance again. The sun is peaking through clouds after another sweet rain storm. My little cabin creek is as loud as a river and has never resonated so much in my heart. Birds are singing, and I have to say, I’m not “thinking” about any of it. I’m just sitting here now, feeling. The world is calm, yet more alive than ever.
If the universe needed to give me a concussion to remember what it’s like to truly feel and experience life, then I say thank you. There is a world beyond the screen out there, and truth is, the world HAS slowed down. Prior to this injury I was planning, producing and exploring everything I could “do” with this extra time for tireless hours every day. I tried to challenge the universe, but her message finally came through loud and clear:
"Slow down, dear one. Slow down."
It sure is nice, even just for a little while to remember how to be with time. Maybe it’s not all about doing. Maybe when I walk in this garden from now on, when I walk through this life, I might see the world a little different. I might choose to not walk through the garden, but rather to be in the garden. Maybe I’ll just swing on this swing and look around.
How about you? Are you in the garden with me, or are you walking through it? Sit here with me, dear. Let’s be here now.
What do you see?
I see life.
I feel love.
I see flowers coming up from under the ground...
