The Blossom or the Bug
Beauty
peeks out in every season
and is only seen if searched out.
One can see the blossom
or the bug
the fruit on the tree
or the windfall beneath
the brilliance in the leaves
or the mess they make
The flake glistening in sunlight
or the drift across the walk
that needs a shovel.
Life’s seasons are no different.
people come and go
and in them is a learning
a flourishing chance to grow.
a revealing
sometimes of another
but mostly of ourselves.
And the constant…
ever increasing understanding
of self in context of the whole.
For I am
in the present.
Beauty, grace, life, vibrancy, texture.
I am fluid and tangible
Created and creator.
I am love itself manifest
in being.
For love is in
not just the joy
but also the grief.
Love weaves tapestry revealing
purpose in both light and dark.
One string in mine
catches your attention
and there is a connection.
Heart, Soul, Spirit.
The deep which calls to deep.
Engage in life.
For in its mystery,
is the knowing.
And in the living of it
Wisdom.
Wise life does not ever perish.
For it chooses to see
and then look long enough to find.
That which is tangible is also temporal. There is no guarantee of its perpetuation. In a sense, we are the only constant in our own life. One might argue that the only constant is Life itself, out of which we flow. And if we choose to reside in that fresh, restful stream of being, that is true.
I have felt more in the rapids of late, than the quiet pool. The handhold I had been certain of could not support my weight, and I fell. Tears flowed. Emotions stirred. Full gamut of raw being exposed. Alone, self doubt bruised soul. And yet… what do I choose to see? I am still in the pool. There is still peace. The agitation that stopped me from seeing my own reflection in the clear water was my panicked flailing. I put my feet down, and find I am not still falling, helpless, I am completely supported by solid rock. The debris from the accident has also found a resting place. Oddly, adding beauty to the landscape.
I am still intact. And I may know me better. What felt like a bruise was no more than a muscle stretched and strengthened by use. A limb now moves with more confidence and freedom. Somewhere in the loss a gain emerged. Out of the grief stems an unstoppable confidence. I need only one for my own holy expression. My spirit only requires one person to bring the light given her… me.
Every experience in life brings out a new detail of my reflection in the pool. I see myself with greater clarity. I relax about my purpose. I begin to see my wholeness, my completeness. I breathe in and out with greater ease, and greet the next day with more hope.
The grief, the sadness, mere connection points with others who are part of the whole. The chinks in my armour reveal my humanity. Compassion, support, love can flow uninhibited into the soul of another. They may find their own beauty, heal in knowing they are not isolated in their experience.
My constant, is me, immersed in Life itself. Sheltered, held, loved without condition, individually designed, but manifest as part of the whole. At rest in my placement. At peace in relationship. Confident in identity. Come, Life, I am constantly in flow, and therefore, in perfect rest. At peace in all circumstances. Fully intact.