Because we need joy. And who doesn’t love a parade?
For me, at this moment in time, celebrating the United States of America as a place of independence and freedom stirs up a reluctant mix of cynicism and disgust. Yet on a mountaintop in North Carolina, I actually felt hopefulness rise above foreboding and fear.
A few days ago I had the great fortune to observe the celebration of the fourth of July at the revered Penland School of Crafts in Mitchell County. There is a tradition of a picnic, parade and fireworks, not unlike in many small towns and cities across the U.S. Given that Penland and surrounding counties are home to many artists and creatives, the parade had a grassroots whimsy much appreciated by me.
There were several hundred of us gathered. Humans like to gather. We like ritual. I would go so far as to say we need ritual. And we need joy. What better than a parade and fireworks to help us flex our capacity for joy.
I’m weary from grappling with the nonsense of this political season and the continuing erosion of freedom, all done in the name of someone’s God and a diseased patriarchy. But for a couple hours up on that mountain, in a sea of red and blue, I actually felt hopeful. Hopeful that the divide between us is not as great as the media portrays it to be.
In that moment, I chose to celebrate the ‘red, white and blue’ along with a beautifully diverse set of my fellow travelers. We spread out our meals which ranged from fancy picnics full of organic food grown in the surrounds, to the $2 dollar foil-wrapped hotdogs purchased to support the local fire department. Then we turned our chairs to watch dusk fall on these beautiful mountains while a well-tended bonfire danced on a knoll. The laughter and frivolity of children filled the air. And finally, the magically curated colors and shapes began to burst into the dark.
We all raised our faces to the sky in awe.
