At first, we walked on the mud, it was a little slippery but not deep. Patches of grass clung to the earth in an attempt to provide stability. As the weekend went on and the showers continued their pattern of on again, off again, we began walking in the mud. The very first band I listened to made it clear: those festival goers with gumboots on were the most sensible, but the most practical of us were already walking around with bare feet.
Sure enough, as the weekend continued, more and more people wandered around shoeless.
The rain and the mud caused the ground to cake our shoes, and we had to calculate every step. But did that mean that the festival was a failure? No!
Why? Because the rain and mud caused challenges, yet we decided our own attitudes towards it. There were plenty of people put off by the rain and the mud, they didn’t make it out to festival. But the rain and the mud didn’t dictate our weekend, our responses dictated our weekend.
I was on crew, camping close enough to the communal spaces to keep the top of my shoes clean. I chose each step carefully and though I accumulated mud, my feet remained dry. That was until I tried walking to one of the outlying stages – then I realised the depth of mud that the general campers had to navigate every time they came to the marketplace or Mainstage. Bare feet or gumboots truly were the only reasonable options here. My walking shoes would have filled with mud! I didn’t venture that way. Instead, I was grateful for our camping spot.
I chose to be careful, but others ran about with reckless abandon. They had a blast! The rain and the mud put no dampener on festival for these ones, they only added to the adventure. I saw grown men pretend to ski, I saw young men delight in squishing mud between their toes. I saw families walking, their arms supporting each other and I saw children running through the crowd, splashing mud as they went. I saw a tractor pulling a truck backwards and that truck was slipping and sliding all over the place. I saw a dad in a white t-shirt trying to carry his toddler without getting dirty, I saw young parents straining to get their pushchairs through the bogs.
The rain and the mud provided a unique setting for each of us to encounter in the way that seemed best to us. But notice that the rain and the mud were not to blame for a bad weekend.
We got to choose how the weekend went and generally, we considered it a success.
Monday morning on Mainstage, one organiser said that he had struggled with anger at the insistent rain before he adjusted his attitude. Perspective was key this weekend.
In life, we walk around saying that this thing happened or that is to blame. In reality, life happens to us all and our responses shape our experience.
On Sunday night, I chose not to dance because of the mud, while a festival favourite had others jumping and dancing with no thought to their feet. I knew that I was missing out and it was my own decision. I enjoyed singing and absorbing the atmosphere.
Just after that band finished playing at midnight, I had a brief conversation with a distant cousin that I haven’t spoken to in decades. I spent the rest of the night semi-awake, thinking how the conversation could have gone differently. It wasn’t a bad conversation, but it could have been better.
The next morning, I gave myself grace considering that the conversation was late at night and unexpected. In the past I would have beat myself up over it, but this time I chose not to. Why? Because I am the only one who decides whether conversation reruns drain the life out of me. It could have been better, but I have noted the learning and choose to let it go.
I could blame the circumstance or myself, or I can take responsibility for the conversation and determine to approach it differently next time.
Whatever you encounter, it is your responsibility how you respond.
Last night, back at home, I was tired and cranky, but fortunately the neighbours came over for a while. My curt responses and eyerolls quickly became fodder for laughter and my spirits lifted. Nothing changed except my attitude.
Some people, born into families with few resources, refuse to accept limitation. They persevere as they learn and try new ways of doing things. They choose to respond differently to what they encounter. Their circumstance isn’t different from their sibling’s, just the way they approach it.
When someone treats you badly, you choose how you respond. You might go through stages of anger or grief or other emotions, but you don’t have to stay there.
We all choose how to respond when life gets hard. Sure, other’s behaviour demands a response, but you can choose what that response is.
When wave after relentless wave of showers continue and your sure footing gets unsteady, you can remove yourself from the environment, tread carefully, or dance in the rain.
Rain caused the mud and the mud demanded a response. But the mud was a trigger – everyone responded in their own way.
Responses varied based on our expectations, how prepared we were, where we were positioned, our desires and how we adapted to the circumstances around us. It didn’t take great resources to walk around with bare feet. It took flexibility.
Despite the damp environment, I heard so many positive responses to festival. The atmosphere remained joyful.
What is the forecast in your situation? Are you experiencing the relentless pattern of clouds rolling in or clear skies? You can choose to be down even when the sky is blue because you are responsible for your own attitudes. Equally, you can choose joy in the midst of pain. Circumstance doesn’t define you; your choices do.
Whatever environment you find yourself in this week, take responsibility. Don’t bother about blaming anyone or anything, your circumstances are what they are. In the midst of this place, you are responsible for your response.
How do you respond?
