Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Sometimes, there is no doubt to be found.

I recently took a trip to Eight Winds Festival in Truckee, California, not too far from Lake Tahoe. It was quite lovely, and I was honored to travel the two-thousand miles with my guitar to perform live for many folks I've only known in spirit upt to now.

When you take your guitar on a plane, it is very important that you loosen the string lest the loss of pressure in the baggage compartment cause the bridge to be ripped from the body of the instrument. I was shocked at the prospect before my flight to Cali, and checked and double-checked it four times before I let them take it out of my hands at the airport.

On the way home, I was nestled into my seat, exhausted from a lack of sleep due to excessive desire to be awake with the people around me, and when the captain announced that we had reached a cruising altitude of 35,000 feet, my hands literally went to my face as I realized that I had not loosened the string for the return flight.

Calmly, I said to myself, "Missy, you are a Druid, and you have honored the Gods far more than you have asked for anything in return. Just ask for help." So, I called to Freyja, asking her to protect my guitar, break the strings if she has to!, but please, let it be playable when I got home to Columbus.

Twice during my layover in Houston, I was reminded of my folly, but both times, I reminded myself that I asked for Freyja to help, and she has never let me down. When the plane began to accelerate on the runway one final time, I placed my trust in Freyja to keep my guitar safe throughout this last leg of the trip--and on through the "moderate" turbulence about an hour out from Columbus that sent the flight attendants to their seats!

When we arrived at the baggage claim area, with bated breath, I watched for my guitar to come through. It was unscathed from the outside, which sent a thank you from my heart to the Continental employees who obviously handled it well during transport. As I picked it up, my heart was racing in my ears, and I could hear or see nothing around me. Slowly, I opened my guitar case and revealed: a perfectly whole guitar! A few quick strums on the strings showed that it was not only intact, but still in tune.

This is why I believe the Gods are real. Because they show me in tangible ways. What doubt is there to be found? Hail Freyja! I hope she enjoyed her "thank you" wine.

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