Someone keeps sending me Flowers
Spring has finally emerged and shouts “yes” into the “no” and says goodbye to what can no longer be by declaring, for the one billionth time, “Once more.” I have returned to my mowing machine and trim the growth that has waited five months to spring upward again in its endless pursuit of the light. What will I learn this season from the nature that surrounds me in lessons of Wisdom and the on-going challenge to a caretaker to do only one simple thing – care? If I make the time to notice – if I can put away distractions long enough to see the miracles budding from every direction –if I can listen and also hear – this Spring may be the season in which I too blossom into the potential that has been stored since seed form.
“Yesterday I was clever. I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise. I am changing myself.” Rumi
I still want to change the world. One cannot experience what we see daily and not want to make a difference. I have visions of institutes that challenge entropic institutions, collaborative efforts that replace competitive, fear based strategies, teachers who are both student and mentor, and children who reclaim the ability to focus and the instinct to believe. And I believe this is possible as I continue to write my newest work, From Great to the Greater Good. As Buckminster Fuller discovered, we all are like a “trim tab” on the rudder of a great ship that changes the direction just by a slight adjustment. A change of direction is inevitable and all trim tabs must be in alignment.
But that means preparation – scraping and sanding– removing the rust, scale and barnacles that cling on and restrict the potential for clear sailing. Spring becomes a reminder that all things are made new, what was, is no longer and decays on the forest floor. What is becomes all that we have – this moment – this season – this spring – these flowers.
I have an idea who it is that keeps sending me flowers. Each time a splash of color arrives there is no note, yet I know who is behind the intention. I have a lover who I keep hidden all too often. It may be time, this season to unveil, more clearly the One who has always loved me in the autumns of my falling– who has stood by me in every shadow of my winters – and yet revisits my door every spring with a new arrangement of color – just for me.
I am grateful for that someone –who keeps sending me flowers.