st john's tide and the height of the summer

In the past year or so, I have found myself in an unexpected place. Several of my friends have had losses, which have brought me to develop new abilities in my serving role. Be an early loss, a still birth, or the loss of a partner, these loses have given me the opportunity to reflect on the subject. Often: while driving; while weeding. And as I live in vermont, we do A LOT of both.

More recently, one of my friends has unexpectedly lost her husband. Two weeks later, the twins they were going to adopt were born. I have witnessed my friend going through these extreme emotions daily, navigating them at the best of her abilities, with the support she has (which is enormous, fortunately.)

Just as St John's Tide, at the height the summer, offers its buzzing outward pull, a need for peace and quiet arises. In the midsts of this euphoria, a need for outward connection while coexists a pull towards inner contemplation. A feeling arises, deep down, that I am here to serve my purpose. In the middle of the most benign task, I am remembered that through hovering in selflessness, I may reach my potential. Could I truly be at a better place than here, serving a woman, and her daughters, in joy and grief? I witness one of the painful oppositions of this earth: life and death, in close confinement, remind me daily of the dichotomies of life, and of destiny, at times felt as an absurdity.

There are no coincidences. While at a book sale, I found a book that looked interesting: "Healing into life and death". A week later, I found it on my friend's bedtime table. Perhaps it is time for the first chapter of that book...