The Power of Insignificance - From Africa to Aging Parents
This past month I took a lifetime dream trip that had been planned for over a year and envisioned likely since I was a child – a safari trip to Tanzania and a restful ending in the bountiful beauty of Zanzibar. And I got to take this trip with two of my chosen sisters which took the experience to a whole other level of depth, meaning and joy.
I have had several weeks to process this adventure . . . the insight, perspective, learning and gratitude that I always gain from a cultural immersion like this, and the most powerful reflection I keep coming back to is how insignificant I am and how short our human experience truly is. Having the opportunity to witness lions, hyena, elephants, giraffes, zebras, hippos, (I could go on) and even a black rhino in their natural habitat was breathtaking. Their elegance, strength, and sheer immensity is what first impressed upon me how insignificant I was to the circle of life I was witnessing.
The second impression of my insignificance was gifted by the sheer magnitude of the landscapes we were navigating – from the never-ending bush of the Serengeti to the plushness of the Ngorongoro Crater – the vastness felt like we were at the edge of the world over and over again. The sunrises and sunsets that featured unfamiliar bird calls and all, too familiar, lion roars. The wisdom and kindness of the Masai tribesmen we met along the way and were able to engage with through our guides. And ultimately the grace that every day gave us – to wake up, be where we were, let the day unfold as it may, and soak every second of it up along the way. That grace is when it hit me how short our time here, our circle of life, truly is.
Being able to travel with my people who are family helps me to absorb more of the meaning that emerges along the way. Talks at night over dinner and wine. Sharing the experience as it happens in the bush. Lazy mornings checking in with each other about what is happening on our interior journeys while we shared this exterior magnificence. It all changes me. Or more accurately, it changes my choices, my intention, my clarity – my interior. And the connection the three of us developed changes what happens between us – it strengthens our connective tissue for years to come. Especially given we aren’t all together often – one is on the west coast, and the other is in a different city. For me to understand me and what I am experiencing, my companions are essential.
Trips like this have as many challenges as they do joys – both are required for the recipe of rich learning. From travel issues, to safety concerns, to illness, to injury, to crises happening back home while we were away – all of it teaches you about who and how you are, and it shows you in real time who your people are. The care and teamwork we had was so heartfelt. We needed each other in different ways at different times and there is so much self-awareness and self-management wrapped up in those situations as they pop up.
Luckily for me, my life back home was stable, and stayed that way until about a week later. I was just getting back on my own time zone and getting back into a rhythm when my world got jarred by a shift in my parents’ well-being. I feel my grounding leave each time a new ripple shakes my foundation in this aging parent chapter. These kind of foundational shifts are the ultimate teachers, and in this case a strong touchstone to the insignificance and shortness of my life. Having the insights from this recent immersion and the deep connection with my sisters, gives me vital resources that are needed for me to reground. It always takes time – it never happens as fast as I want. But because of the resources I have and the awareness I have built, I know that I can trust the process of my re-grounding.
I get clarity for what is needed outside of me and inside of me. I get help with that clarity if I don’t have it myself, and then I begin the process of finding a new rhythm, reshaping my foundation. It is similar to being on safari every day . . . every day we had a plan, and every day it changed. The plan isn’t the point . . . it is how I hold the moments. That is this aging parent chapter for me in a nutshell – holding the moments. Not too tightly – not getting too far ahead or letting go too soon. Just checking in constantly with myself about how I feel – does that lion roar feel close enough to be concerned about? Does that doctor’s approach feel reasonable and caring? Question by question. Moment to moment.
Adventures are everywhere if we are present in our lives. Some adventures are chosen and planned, some are mandatory in the circle of life, and all are growth opportunities to hold the moments with grace and ease.
The adventure continues . . .
