In mid-May I took on a new spiritual practice, a practice called “Cherry Days”. It was challenging, steady and quite rewarding. I may do it again next year. The practice was in the form of coordinating Paonia’s Cherry Days Festival. This was the 62nd annual, and it’s quite the deal in this Western Colorado town of 1600 people. Thousands of people come into town for it, and it’s three days of reunions, music, arts and crafts, carnival, a Fourth of July parade and fireworks, lots of regional events. I stepped into the job kind of late in the game—the Paonia Chamber of Commerce (I’m on the board) has produced it for the last few years, but it’s a big job that tends to burn out the few volunteers who put it on. So this year we realized we needed to hire someone to oversee the whole thing, and since I’d put in many volunteer hours on it last year and had a good picture of what was needed, and I tend to be fairly obsessive about details, I was asked to take it on.
I thought about it a lot before I accepted. I’ve been on a roll with music of late, and I didn’t want to derail the progress I was making with my career. So I asked myself about my values, and how this would fit into it. Was it on purpose with my goals? Some of my deepest values revolve around finding common ground and harmony, nurturing community and inclusiveness. Our town has been deeply divided of late over several issues, and there’s always the old-timer/newcomer tension. So I saw this as a way to hold an intention of creating common ground, and to work with that intention. It turned out well—due to the efforts of many people, I think some healing took place, and some understanding and appreciation of differences.
But for me the most exciting and satisfying thing was the personal practice that I took on. I’ve been a meditator for many years, and know that it’s an important part of my ability to be peaceful and fairly sane. I tend to be a bit of an introvert, and like to have my time be my own. I knew that I was going to need to be out in public and social in ways that I’m not always comfortable with. My challenge was to be the same inside and outside, to carry the centeredness I get from meditating into the public arena, and maintain it for a couple of months. So every morning I created a strong picture and feeling of the kind of person I wanted to be as I moved through this project—compassionate, effective, clear, patient, open, available. When I would start to lose my centeredness, I could come back to that strong sense of who I wanted to be, and usually I’d get back on track. I’ve known other people who’ve gotten so stressed out when working on events like this that people were afraid to talk with them—I knew I didn’t want to be that, so it became a moment by moment process, choosing to handle my stress in a way that didn’t injure anyone, myself included. The times I didn’t do my morning practice, it showed—grace and ease were nowhere to be found. But most of the time I’d get lined up before stepping onto the mat, and whether it was a solo technique or a rondori, it was a lot like dancing--Aikido in daily life, indeed. And much fun was had along the way.
This experience strengthened my knowing that everything we do can help us grow, that everything is a practice and the real thing. I found I can be bigger than I thought—I had some fears about failing the “test”, but they melted away in the step by step, moment by moment practice. And there’s so much more to work on, to improve…
And after a nice rest, I’m ready for the next practice.
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