Snowed and iced in on “my” mountain left me with an opportunity, by necessity, to create a different routine.

My seven outside rescued cats were a bit, um, confused by their diet of grits. Although my friends and I had a chuckle from this; it soon became a deeper lesson. Because many in this world would be happy to have a bowl of grits.

I had yeast, flour, sugar, butter, cinnamon, raisins- oh those rolls were wonderful. I had heat. I had clean well water. I had electricity providing light and hot water on demand. I had cooking ability. What I did not have were my regular vices!

A fast from time to time to time for a conscious reason feeds me. It is not actually a loss. But loss is ever present. A war takes lives, limbs and hearts.  A natural devastation takes away homes, possessions, community. Whole populations are displaced, set adrift; homeless, cold, hungry, thirsty, ill, sweltering.

Oppression takes away freedom, dignity, choice. The lists of loss is endless. We have all experienced loss; we resist and mourn and grieve those passings. We are all one human. Some can incorporate those pains into their lives with an understanding of impermanence. Knowing that security, by our own designs, is a myth.

But it was interesting how each adaptation in my little cabin world reminded me of how easy I have it. Nature displaying a beauty and power that awes and humbles me. I think of people, children and animals who are seeking that ease. Thank you, I sing. A neighbor reaches out to see if I am okay; even as she buries a loved one. Glory, I cry.

Trading comfort, money and things, for Time, has been a way of life for me. I like it. I  knew that I had it made. I was warmed by love, I was fed by laughter, I was abundant with books. Then, a trauma, a loss occurs, and suddenly what is important becomes glaringly clear. That I can easily give up this one thing; but, God, please no, don’t let me lose this beloved one! Please let those have more life, more time on Earth.

I can’t control those losses. And I want that control, that Power, to say “stop.” So, instead, here, Lord, is a crust of bread, a pebble cast upon the alter of justice.

Warmth returns, the garden yields food, water recedes, fires go out, bombs stop dropping, new souls come to us. For a while. It is a different day bringing different gifts; but it becomes One again. The losses become a part of us and that part reveals deeper understandings. And that understanding brings us closer to Creation and Chaos.

We give up something sometimes on purpose and sometimes by accident. “Everything changes but the truth.”*

I will never bemoan “just” a bowl of grits again. It will stay a memory of wealth. When I give away, I will be taking the joy. When I must “give up,” I will be solidarity. I have much, I have much to give, I have much to lose. Even my Faith may wane- but it always comes back!

-Susan Proctor

*Attributed to Lucinda Williams (although she may or may not have written those words)