Tag: bloom

This Blessing of Spring.

The days are growing longer, my loves – as spring finds its place amongst these vestiges of green.

Beyond, the ice has worn thin at the river’s edge – the sound of water revealing only that which the heart may speak.

Our bodies, suddenly unconstrained by these markings of time. In this space, awareness grows – we are not simply one, we are composite of all.

Even the tiniest of sapling blooms to honor these new beginnings.

“Spring has returned,” Rilke once shared. “The Earth is like a child that knows…” Knowing, yes…just as the dews knows the comfort of morn’.

How lucky are to be gifted her presence; majestic, noble, kind and true. A blessing beyond this fullness of word.

And, in her presence – our faith, renewed.

In peace, my loves…

Namaste ❤️

A Buttered Bloom on Morning Walk.

“Hello, sun in my face. Hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields…
Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness.” – Mary Oliver

My darlings, a yellow bloom from my morning walk – a reflection of the light that is so brilliantly you.

And, for which I am ever-grateful.

These tiny pockets of knowingness bursting through the grassy knolls – and offering to me this gift of waking, tucked within a buttered bloom.

“Still, what I want in my life,” writes poet, Mary Oliver, “is to be willing
to be dazzled—
to cast aside the weight of facts

and maybe even
to float a little
above this difficult world.”

To be dazzled by these much simpler things, my darlings, is to have truly lived.

Namaste, my loves ~ ❤️

The Colors We Share.

My darlings, this morning I was inspired by the most perfect bloom. The tiniest of bud, barely discernible against the stone garden path…simply waiting for that moment to be ‘known’.

That’s its joy, you see—that we might discover the depths of its journey; from seed, to soil, to stunningly beautiful. A pop of gold against a patch of cerulean blue ~ my goodness, the artist certainly knows her hues…

It brought to mind something Osho once shared –  how the seed becomes the flower, in spite of its ‘not ever knowing.’

I hope you’ll not mind that I share it with you today.

“The seed cannot know what is going to happen,” he writes. “the seed has never known the flower. And the seed cannot even believe that he has the potentiality to become a beautiful flower.

Long is the journey, and it is always safer not to go on that journey because unknown is the path, nothing is guaranteed. Nothing can be guaranteed.

Thousand and one are the hazards of the journey, many are the pitfalls – and the seed is secure, hidden inside a hard core. But the seed tries, it makes an effort; it drops the hard shell which is its security, it starts moving. Immediately the fight starts: the struggle with the soil, with the stones, with the rocks. And the seed was very hard and the sprout will be very, very soft and dangers will be many.

There was no danger for the seed, the seed could have survived for millennia, but for the sprout many are the dangers. But the sprout starts towards the unknown, towards the sun, towards the source of light, not knowing where, not knowing why.

Great is the cross to be carried, but a dream possesses the seed and the seed moves. The same is the path for man. It is arduous. Much courage will be needed.”

Indeed, much courage is needed – but, know that this garden path waits for your bloom.

From seem, to soil, to stunningly beautiful – my darlings, we all have our colors to share.

Sometimes Goodbye is Just the Beginning.

“How did the rose ever open its heart
And give to this world all of its beauty?
It felt the encouragement of light against its being,
Otherwise we all remain too frightened.” – Hafiz

I said goodbye to my son today – which was, by far, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. He’s leaving for his first year-long ‘next great adventure,’ traveling to a destination nearly half-way around this world.

My goodness, it’s never easy to say goodbye – now, is it? As I look to the sitting table, I see the roses he left behind – perfectly formed, with the most magnificent of blooms.

I’m reminded of the first bouquet he ever carried home for me. It was Mother’s Day, 1997 – and, I had just picked him up from day care.

“Mommy, look – I got for you!!” he shouted, breathless with delight. And, in his hands – a scrunched up, wet paper towel.

To the casual observer, it was just a matted up mess – but, to this Mom, there was no better feeling in this world.

And, now he’s grown – my goodness, how quickly the years have passed. I remember carrying him around in my ‘baby backpack’ – we were inseparable, he and I. No matter where I traveled, he was (quite literally) never too far behind.

But now is the day, I must learn to let him fly; having faith in my new place, within his heart.

We always wish the rose to bloom, and yet – when it does, we fear it will soon be ‘gone.’ But, the flower always returns in another form, my loves ~ and offering us all the greatest blessings of this earth.

As I watch my darling son turn to wave from the door, I can’t help but to appreciate the depth of this one simple truth.

“I’m so very proud of you sweetheart; thank you for helping me to find my purpose.

Safe travels, and please remember your promise, okay? As, I very much need you back ‘here’ someday.

Never too far, my darling ~ no further than my humble heart to yours.

Dream big, live with purpose, and never, ever be afraid to fly.

Love, Mommy”

As Ani Pema might say, we don’t ever know how this story will end; sometimes ‘goodbye’ is just the beginning.