VILLAGE FOR A SEASON

The older I get the more I understand proverbs and other sayings.  Experience continues to provide more depth and understanding. Life leads to new revelations about old expressions. Living results in seasonal changes beyond spring, summer, fall, and winter. Due to loss, often from death, we have our village for only a season.

Maya Angelou. Belle Artis. Derrick Bell. Eunice Blakely. Angela Bofill. Juanita Brown. Vicki Davis. Alan G Galsky. Nikki Giovanni. Katherine Hepburn. Clara Hill. Lena Horne. James Earl Jones. Ellmon Massey. Gregory Massey. Willie Massey. Sidney Poitier. Prince. Mildred Richmond. Sylvia Richmond. This is a subset of my village. Some are family. Some are famous people I have never met.  I grew up with all of them. They were a part of my village. They are a part of my village.

“It takes a village to raise a child (African Proverb).”

With age, I have come to appreciate that a village is more than assistance with childcare. A village provides more than parenting advice. For me, it was a quilt that gave me warmth and shelter. Love and laughter. Safety and belonging.  It was a community that provided discipline and manners. Faith and values. Wisdom and direction.  It was a family that provided support and comfort.  Education and possibilities. Sheroes, heroes, and role models. My village included those who provided the soundtrack and backdrop of my life through film, literature and music. The loss of these relationships, many due to death, has made me more thoughtful about the impact my village has had upon my life. The loss of these relationships has brought another proverb to the forefront.

“To everything there is a season (KJV Ecclesiastes 3:1).”

There is a time for everything. A season for everything. The length of our personal seasons varies. Unlike the predictability of nature’s seasons caused by the earth’s orbit around the sun, changes in our personal seasons often take us by surprise.  Even if they are not a surprise, they still can knock us off our axis.

Despite being an independent adult, the loss of the people who have cared for me and shaped me since the beginning has immersed me in a new uncomfortable season. A season that is uncomfortable due to grief. A season that is uncomfortable due to change.   A season that exposes the importance of my role as a member of others’ villages, and not simply as the recipient of one.

This new season reminds me of the lyrics of a favorite record growing up. “Everything must change. Nothing stays the same. (George Benson. Everything Must Change. In Flight, Warner Bros Records, 1977).” I loved this song during my adolescence. The lyrics still evoke emotions from my youth.  But they resonate with me differently as an adult. Perhaps it is because the changes of my youth were often associated with new chapters. New adventures. New opportunities. Whereas lately, the changes of adulthood feel more like closures. This is likely the perspective of loss and grief which are responsible for many more changes now than in the past. Whatever the case, I know, “When God Closes a door, He opens a window (Wise, Robert. The Sound of Music. Twentieth Century Fox, 1965)”.