Mountaintop Summers
Some of my most articulate sentences start with “Anne Trufant says...” She says awesome things often. It’s best to have a pen and paper when there’s any possibility of her nearness. But even if you forget all the words she gave you, it’s likely that you will remember how she made you feel.
Anne has a long, lingering finish and intense notes of belly laughter. She lives for God, and loves like Jesus. My life shifted toward the clouds the day that I met her, and I am unbelievably grateful.
Somewhere close to five and half years ago, maybe, maybe not… I’m not great at timeframes or geometry.
Oh sorry. Of course, that doesn’t make any sense to you. What does one have to do with other? Ummm…. they have the same color? I have pretty interesting eyes. I can’t fully explain too much about it, as it all sounds crazy and much of it cannot be seen with the light it deserves in words. But I don’t really get to see things the same way other people do. Describing appearance is hard for me, actually it’s almost impossible! And this, I’m sure, is why I’m always a little lost. I don’t remember the street name. I remember what it felt like when I was there. I don’t see what you look like. I see what you make me feel.
Let’s try it with Anne. There is an enormous bubble of comfort that surrounds her ALWAYS. You can feel her from rooms away, and it offers breath. She is light, like feathers and also like the shine of stars. And these are the feelings that envelope your soul when she is near. You become feathery light, and made of starshine.
But what does she look like? Mmmmm…. her hair is short, she’s Cajun-fun, and her hugs feel like peace.
It does sound crazy! And this isn’t even the beginning of it. Where were we? Oh yes, geometry.
So half a decade ago, I went to be “Chef Anna” at her summer camp in the mountains of North Carolina, a place where the soil is saturated with knowing you are loved. It slowly seeps into your heels, and heals. It moves into every part of your being, every space and in-between place, and nourishes the pieces of you that you thought were better unseen. It acknowledges every bit of your soul, tips its hat in great appreciation, and allows a freedom that can come from nothing else but this - the love from within for all of the goodness that is you. It is a most important feeling.
I don’t know how much of me you’ve read at this point. Watch the wind blow, and life in general, is supposed to be about your peace. It’s all meant to be about peace, finding it and taking it with you everywhere. And knowing that in everything is where it can be found. It’s about reaching for a stillness. It’s about being able to hear the sound, the whisper inside of you, and allowing it to have a voice. You are heard, you are held, you are free. Be free.
This is the way my friend Anne walks around, with peace on her, all around her. And I love standing in places she is close to.
The first summer I was at camp, there was a real learning curve. I was just coming away from almost twenty years training in an environment that is built to move fast and hard. There is no patience in it. No extra seconds for any thought to be delivered sweetly.
And I now worked within earshot of 200 little adorable girls. I had to censor myself pretty heavily that first year, as all kitchens train the staff to be sailors with anger management issues. I did okay. It’s way better now. Not perfect still. Once I spilled the stock from a giant boiling pot of green beans directly onto my shoe, which I tied so tightly that day that I couldn’t immediately get it off of my foot. It hurt. I did good. I didn’t say the thing that I screamed so loudly inside my head. It was a moment of personal pride, to say the very least. Also, I am very clumsy. You may as well know that now.
That first summer it seemed like every single time I was seconds away from a temper tantrum, Anne would walk through the kitchen. You know, with all her peace. And when she’d come through, almost every time, she’d tap her finger in the direction of my soul and say something like, “Boop! You’re precious.” And even in an almost fit of rage, every feeling other than peace would just fall off of me. And I’d be forced to smile. It’s a little disorienting. Like Wile E. Coyote’s emojis from the past. Punctuation, that is.
So I’ve been walking around in a little of that since then, and spring cleaning my attic. Becoming closer to and more appreciative of who I get to be when I grow up. I walked in as someone, and came out as myself. With my voice intact. With my broken heart glued together. With my colors exploding.
I am grateful.
And you are very cute and important.
Thank you for being you, and for being here.
This song makes me think of all those adorable little girls when I hear it - forging love for each other’s hearts in every game, in every song, in every sweet word of affirmation spoken. Sometimes when it rains, they all pile into the dining room and have a dance party. Little fairies everywhere. Hold your arms out for this one. It’s going to make you want to spin.
