Lifeblood During Lockdown
We rolled into Mississippi three weeks ago, two weeks ahead of schedule. The pasture at the farm was, and still is, too wet to accommodate the RV so we parked our Big Girl, Stella in my mother-in-law’s driveway.
And although they could not possibly have been sweeter or more welcoming, after only one week, we needed to get out of there. We’ve been gone from our parents' homes far too long to be parked in one of our parent’s driveway indefinitely if another option is available.
Looking for a place to empty Stella’s tanks, we stumbled upon a lakeside campground that was still accepting occupants. We could not believe our good fortune. We moved into it the following day. Within the week, Mississippi officially went on lockdown and the campground stopped accepting new occupants.
We can move locations within the grounds as much as we want, but once we leave, there’s no getting back in, as long as lockdown remains in effect. The lake itself is even closed.
Gradually moving into a state of acceptance, and coming to terms with the fact that we’re going to be here a while; yesterday, we left the outskirts of the campground and moved to a slip deep into the grounds and right on the water.
For the first time in a very long time, we’re in a space where I feel comfortable sitting outside.
Sitting here on the banks of this beautiful lake serves as a heart centered reminder of how much I need to be outside and within nature.
And how much I need the water.
I need the Water like the Air that I breathe. It’s sounds, it’s energy of presence. It’s Spirit. It’s unceasing movement in space and in form. Always changing yet remaining constant in it’s essence. Never static, always recycling itself.
Lakes, Rivers, Oceans, Clouds, Steam, Morning Coffee, Glaciers, Icicles, Life Giving Rain, Humidity, Morning Dew, Mist and Fog, and I’m only getting started.
One of Mother Earth’s greatest gifts, most sacred treasures. Lifeblood. My lifeline within Lockdown.
Sitting here on the banks of this beautiful lake with the Spirit of Water, I finally feel better, like I can sit still for a while.
I am so incredibly thankful to be here.
And I’m reminded how important water is in our Quest for Finding Home; which is the basis of why we’re out here on the road in the first place.
For the last three weeks we’ve been sitting within a state of gratitude, even more so than usual. We’ve been incredibly uncomfortable, yet so thankful and acutely aware of how fortunate we are. There are people in this world who are truly suffering. We are merely uncomfortable and inconvenienced.
Sitting here, indefinitely, on the banks of this beautiful lake, I feel that someday, when we’re able to travel again and looking back, I may actually miss being on lockdown in Mississippi.