By Carla Ann Drummond
Recently, I sat on a friend’s dock at Lake Lure for her Birthday celebration (she was born on the 4th of July!). Along with our collective joy in gathering and eating cake, we all seemed to also be sighing with a sense of catharsis. The lake finally looked like it should, after 18 months of muck and sticks and trash. Although the focus had been on celebrating our great Nation’s 250th Birthday, perhaps what our community was truly basking in with our festive decorations, fireworks and red, white and blue picnics, was our survival.
You may have heard of “the golden hour”. It’s a term used by photographers, artists and vista seekers. It’s that time at the end of the day when the sunlight hits just right, casting a warm dreamy glow with lengthened shadows and a feeling that you’ve somehow stepped outside of yourself. It usually hits about an hour before sunset. People chase it, long for it and revel in it. It’s the perfect setting for boat rides, sunset cocktails and simple contemplation. When it hits the moment often feels surreal, lending itself to introspection and feelings of inspiration.
It could be said that August is the golden hour of the calendar year. It’s this leisurely extended time of heat where the fast rush of Summertime starts to slow down. It feels deliberate, but also fleeting. A temporary glow in an insane world. But can the golden hour also be a metaphor for whatever it is that brings us peace and a sense of deep satisfaction? Can we manifest our own golden hours with a focused intention to be present and compassionate and grateful? I like to think so.
Sitting on that dock, our party was relishing in our very own personal golden hour. It felt nostalgic. My other host even commented on the light and how much he loved it, in that moment. To me, it was an affirmation to bring this idea I had been considering for this month’s column, to fruition. The sun had made the lake look like liquid bronze and as the boats threw their wakes and people laughed and water skied and celebrated, there was this sense of deep gratitude and hope. I paused and allowed myself a golden moment in that golden hour. I am breathing in. I am breathing out. And I felt not only happy, but limitless. Like anything was possible. If we could be in that moment after all that had happened to our lake and our mountains, and our people, then our community can do anything. We are literally gold-that has been melted down, recast and now is ready for the next page. Whatever shape we have taken in our new gilded form is bound to be purposeful and is most certainly a precious gift.
Carla Ann Drummond is the founder of Lake Lure Yoga (www.lakelureyoga.com), where she strives to hold space for peace, healing, breath and to inspire belonging in her community.
