i think a reoccurring theme in my writing is the difficulties in life; maybe i’m drawn to the process of overcoming. overcoming, although we often like to ignore it, has an intimate relationship with darkness. if we want to talk about triumph, we can’t forget those pieces of life that put their foot out to trip us along the way. so for today, i’m going to brain splatter about growing.. not just the end product & the pretty words, but the nitty gritty soil growth rejoices and writhes within
most of my life, people have called me a hippie or a pothead or free spirit or gypsie or things of that nature– because i believe in the connection us humans have with nature. i think nature mirrors much of what life is/should/could be in the purest sense. nature is relentless– it exists to continue & to help other living things continue. a great example for man is nature’s instinct to grow. a tree doesn’t ask itself if it should shed its leaves– it just does; flowers don’t give bees permission to steal their pollen– they just do. nature doesn’t second guess growth, because it wishes to continue. trees kiss their leaves goodbye with a swift nudge in the right direction– letting beauty rest when the time was right & letting it leave with grace when the time comes.
i think we’re afraid to let go of what we see as beautiful. (at least i do) when i have something good, i cling onto it– hoping that as i tighten my grip, sand will turn to stone. that i may have control, that it might turn out the way i see fit. here’s the thing: when i don’t let go of what needs to leave, my hands are so busy trying to catch air, that new joys & blessings have nowhere to land. open hands make us vulnerable, but open hands also put us in the best position to receive. submission is terrifying– but in it, there is the grandest freedom.
i’ll never forget the moment i understood the need for submission like i understand my heart’s beating. my mom got into a bad accident a few months ago. she called me one afternoon. her first words were, “i wish i didn’t have to keep starting conversations like this”. my heart dropped. she told me that she was going into emergency surgery, because her lung was filled 3/4 with blood & water. essentially, breathing was drowning her. the next words were goodbye words. there’s a depth of your heart that gets intruded when you have to say the final goodbye words to a piece of your soul. when she hung up the phone, i walked to the window of our apartment. the sunset was lava and autumn leaves and ocean water.
i remember opening my hands & saying, “she’s Yours. she’s Your daughter before she’s my mom”. i submitted something i clung to like the edge of a cliff. i felt peace. i felt fear, but i felt peace. my mom ended up miraculously pulling through, but what happened at that sunset changed the way i taste, see, feel entrusting my deepest love to a great I am.
here’s my point to that humongo narrative (promise i have one)– in our great pursuit for controlling the unknown, we miss the sunset. we cannot hold the wind; we cannot decide for the wild unknown. we can rejoice. we can grow. we can fight to continue. life is a giant oxymoron: it is the most lovely & painful gift. we are in a constant voyage between peeks & valleys. it is up to us to let go of the leaves that have died; it is up to us to let the the Breath of life to take away the pollen of our lives.
life will prune you so that you can grow. open your hands, friend. let the madness of the uncertain push you to continue on the path. welcome pain, welcome gifts, welcome the wildflowers growing on the cemeteries of your past mistakes.
it’s a hard life. it’s a beautiful life. it’s a chaos, & we move to its untamed beat. when darkness comes, we dance in the light of the moon. when the morning comes, we climb the Rays to marvel in the wonder of the Source of it all.
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