The risk it takes to bloom...
"And then the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."
~ Anais Nin
My spring seedlings are growing taller; their risk to remain tight and not germinate is one they haven't opted to take, instead they're sprouting, reaching toward my kitchen window's northeast sun, yearning to be cilantro, collards and chard. Are you still yearning to be more of who you know you are? What risks do you take by not going toward the light of that promise? Isn't the risk of growing, better?
I've taken the risk to direct my energies toward living in line with my Soul, teaching yoga, working in the "green" natural foods industry (again), and writing, writing, writing, spreading the good works and efforts of many, while being in support of numerous consciencous causes. The risk has meant doing so for less than I value my time at being worth. Not that there is not immense value at working for the heart, the cause, and the good karma. These are all wonderful reasons, for the risks of not being able to give and be of service is far greater than not honoring your path.
At the risk of not ever having a child of my own (and granted the path of parenthood is not for everyone) I chose to bare, and raise, a child as a single parent, often at the risk of being stuck in some pretty muddy waters. Like as of late, I finally made it through the muddy abyss of late spring; like a lotus flower rising forth from the murky bog, my roots have not had stable ground to hold fast to since the RI Flood, which occurred on the eve of April's Fool's Day. Alas though, I am out of high water emotionally and financially, and I'm back in black, regaining light and feeling growth again.
Money is a necessary nutrient to our spirit and livelihood, providing for our basic needs and helping to enrich our lives with opportunities. It's lack of and/or mismanagement of, can often mentally and physically hold us back from the growth we seek. I am grateful to have had some new shoots of income come to me this week. Plant the seed, and work to bare the fruit!
Another good sprout shooting up is that my father is doing a bit better; after over three weeks in the hospital following lung cancer surgery, he's hopefully gaining the strength and momentum to begin to breathe on his own again. My family is reassuring me that although I so very much want to be near my father, it's best I stay home where my son needs me most. It's a risk I'm taking, not ever seeing my father again, but my faith is feeding me on this one.
Another budding, is my relationship with the man I can't seem to get out of my heart. It's a risk I just can't stop taking, to love and accept what comes. As Rumi so poetically puts it, ... "Love flows down. The earth submits to the sky and suffers what comes, does the earth fare any iess for giving in like that?" I've got to just love him, the risk of not hurts too much.
I tend to always start blooming in late April, in sync with the trees, and my birthday. My mother's sweet card arrived for me today, three days early, but with perfect timing. It sang to me just when I needed it. Thanks Mom! My little guy asked me how old I'll be when he's my age. We imagined what life will be like when he's 47, and I'm 87... It was a very interesting conversation. I told him I hope he has a child, and he said he wants six! I said, "then you better keep doing your very best in school and make good money to support your family." He said he wanted to invent solar panel cars that hover, and be a palentologist and scientist. Reminded me of when my mom used to say to me, "you better marry a millionaire, Becky!" I always had a load of cool things on my plate, but somehow she thought I'd need a man to do it all. I kind of think that energy stuck, but I keep trying to disprove it. (Note, I was engaged to a millionaire I dated for seven years, but left that dream for another that loomed larger. Having a child and growing even more as an individual!)
When I think of the lessons I'm still either ignoring or practicing to learn, I wonder what lessons are instore for my son. I pray for Grace to help us both continue to age with joyfulness and intelligence. I pray for my son, and for all of the young and old yet to come, to risk to live out their dreams. To risk to learn their lessons, to make choices, to dive deeper, to spend wisely, to work harder, to listen smarter, to laugh when wanting to cry, to cry when wanting to laugh. To risk is to feel and give love, instead of live with the hard emotions of fear and anger.
To dream is to risk. To envision and define clearly what you want, is to risk it's arrival, and it's changing. And, to risk growing in the chaos of the muddy process, is to risk learning your lessons, for to remain stuck, is to risk not growing at all. Dive deep in the hazy waters, hold fast to your intentions, and bloom from the bud of your wildest dreams!
There are Love stories and there is obliteration into love.
We are walking the ocean's edge, holding up our robes to keep them dry.
We must dive, naked and under. Under a thousand times deeper.
Love flows down. The earth submits to the sky and suffers what comes.
Tell me, does the earth fare any less for giving in like that.
Jelaludin Rumi
~ Anais Nin
My spring seedlings are growing taller; their risk to remain tight and not germinate is one they haven't opted to take, instead they're sprouting, reaching toward my kitchen window's northeast sun, yearning to be cilantro, collards and chard. Are you still yearning to be more of who you know you are? What risks do you take by not going toward the light of that promise? Isn't the risk of growing, better?
I've taken the risk to direct my energies toward living in line with my Soul, teaching yoga, working in the "green" natural foods industry (again), and writing, writing, writing, spreading the good works and efforts of many, while being in support of numerous consciencous causes. The risk has meant doing so for less than I value my time at being worth. Not that there is not immense value at working for the heart, the cause, and the good karma. These are all wonderful reasons, for the risks of not being able to give and be of service is far greater than not honoring your path.
At the risk of not ever having a child of my own (and granted the path of parenthood is not for everyone) I chose to bare, and raise, a child as a single parent, often at the risk of being stuck in some pretty muddy waters. Like as of late, I finally made it through the muddy abyss of late spring; like a lotus flower rising forth from the murky bog, my roots have not had stable ground to hold fast to since the RI Flood, which occurred on the eve of April's Fool's Day. Alas though, I am out of high water emotionally and financially, and I'm back in black, regaining light and feeling growth again.
Money is a necessary nutrient to our spirit and livelihood, providing for our basic needs and helping to enrich our lives with opportunities. It's lack of and/or mismanagement of, can often mentally and physically hold us back from the growth we seek. I am grateful to have had some new shoots of income come to me this week. Plant the seed, and work to bare the fruit!
Another good sprout shooting up is that my father is doing a bit better; after over three weeks in the hospital following lung cancer surgery, he's hopefully gaining the strength and momentum to begin to breathe on his own again. My family is reassuring me that although I so very much want to be near my father, it's best I stay home where my son needs me most. It's a risk I'm taking, not ever seeing my father again, but my faith is feeding me on this one.
Another budding, is my relationship with the man I can't seem to get out of my heart. It's a risk I just can't stop taking, to love and accept what comes. As Rumi so poetically puts it, ... "Love flows down. The earth submits to the sky and suffers what comes, does the earth fare any iess for giving in like that?" I've got to just love him, the risk of not hurts too much.
I tend to always start blooming in late April, in sync with the trees, and my birthday. My mother's sweet card arrived for me today, three days early, but with perfect timing. It sang to me just when I needed it. Thanks Mom! My little guy asked me how old I'll be when he's my age. We imagined what life will be like when he's 47, and I'm 87... It was a very interesting conversation. I told him I hope he has a child, and he said he wants six! I said, "then you better keep doing your very best in school and make good money to support your family." He said he wanted to invent solar panel cars that hover, and be a palentologist and scientist. Reminded me of when my mom used to say to me, "you better marry a millionaire, Becky!" I always had a load of cool things on my plate, but somehow she thought I'd need a man to do it all. I kind of think that energy stuck, but I keep trying to disprove it. (Note, I was engaged to a millionaire I dated for seven years, but left that dream for another that loomed larger. Having a child and growing even more as an individual!)
When I think of the lessons I'm still either ignoring or practicing to learn, I wonder what lessons are instore for my son. I pray for Grace to help us both continue to age with joyfulness and intelligence. I pray for my son, and for all of the young and old yet to come, to risk to live out their dreams. To risk to learn their lessons, to make choices, to dive deeper, to spend wisely, to work harder, to listen smarter, to laugh when wanting to cry, to cry when wanting to laugh. To risk is to feel and give love, instead of live with the hard emotions of fear and anger.
To dream is to risk. To envision and define clearly what you want, is to risk it's arrival, and it's changing. And, to risk growing in the chaos of the muddy process, is to risk learning your lessons, for to remain stuck, is to risk not growing at all. Dive deep in the hazy waters, hold fast to your intentions, and bloom from the bud of your wildest dreams!
There are Love stories and there is obliteration into love.
We are walking the ocean's edge, holding up our robes to keep them dry.
We must dive, naked and under. Under a thousand times deeper.
Love flows down. The earth submits to the sky and suffers what comes.
Tell me, does the earth fare any less for giving in like that.
Jelaludin Rumi
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