A RETURN TO JOY
Traditionally, Spring Break vacation involves miles and miles of the open road in our RV, s'mores around a campfire, followed by the grand finale, a white water rafting adventure on the local river. This year, we opt for turkey and gravy instead.
Although it is the middle of March, we sit down to share a Thanksgiving dinner together. That’s right, turkey, gravy, sweet potatoes (pretending to be yams), stuffing, cranberry sauce, and rolls. All the trimmings. In the middle of a pandemic, filled with fear, uncertainty, and the turbulence of unprecedented times, we reach for our life vests. We are starving for the comfort of safe and familiar. By the look on our faces, you would never know it was Ava’s dinner choice. We share equal anticipation and joy for the return of this simple family tradition and began as we always do.
They are talking over one another and we are carefully guiding the conversation to keep sibling rivalry at bay, to preserve the moment. I am listening to each of them share their gratitude. I feel like time is standing still. Fear and worries about the unknown retreat to everywhere else but here, yesss. At this moment, nothing can get in the way. Everything that matters is right here at this table. Although I am sitting here, in a weird way I feel like I’m watching from somewhere else. I am around the table with them four years ago in November (celebrating the success of my first turkey brine) when we began this tradition. Then I am around the table with them four years from now, they are young adults. I’m remembering this moment, where we were and what we were doing during Spring Break of 2020. This is gratitude. This is the power of presence. These are the simple moments I take for granted until they are threatened or worse, forgotten forever. This is a return to joy, if even for a moment.
Of course, a simple meal around a table won’t take away the fear of a pandemic or alleviate the threat of death or illness. It won’t bring back the flow of life as we’ve known it. A familiar tradition won’t bring back school for the kids on Monday or date night at our favorite restaurant on Friday. The coming weeks, days, and hours ahead may still be filled with confusion, frustration, and uncertainty as we navigate these times.
Choosing the familiar of family tradition last night felt like a big hug, a blanket of comfort, hope, and love. What if instead of fear, we choose to anchor in the comfort and familiarity of the simple things in life. What if we get still and quiet, zoom in and listen to what this is here to teach us? What if, inside the slowdown, we discover something more--we find presence and gratitude for what is already here--a return to ourselves and each other.
