Just a Moment

"in every moment “everything is either devolving towards or evolving from nothingness -- and nothingness, instead of being empty space, is alive with possibility, suggesting that the universe is in constant motion toward or away from infinite potential.”

 Sometimes I find that words, speaking or writing them, get in the way of what I really know to be true and what I want to communicate.  Today is one of those days.

 Today I would rather that you consider the linked quote above and look closely at the picture of the Pussy Willows.  There are a few surprises to be found.  

tulips speak loudly, when I'm ready to listen

Roots and History
I'm not so sure anything at all really exists without roots of some sort.  Roots provide stability, background, history and a common thread.  Roots also give rise to life and growth.  Obviously, plants have roots or they wouldn't survive.   People have roots usually found in the form of family; and sometimes we 'put down' roots and decide to live in a certain area for a long time.  Everyday objects have roots, right?  Objects are created or designed by someone who used their vision to bring the object into being, giving the object a history through that same vision to bring it to life.

I've become who I am because of my roots and my history.  I may not always like to acknowledge those roots, or the history that makes me who I am;  but I am finally coming to a place - a Wabi-sabi kind of place, that finds beauty in who I am, specifically because of my roots.

 Denial Cannot Exist for Continued Healthy Life

I was observing the roots of a bunch of tulip bulbs growing in water and had an interesting thought about them.  I don't think plants reject or deny their roots.  The roots can be damaged or broken, causing harm and potential death to the plant, but the plant can't just decide to ignore the roots, or pretend they don't exist.  Roots and plant act as one.  Roots are an important part of life.  Yet, I have personally experienced and noticed that a number of people deny their roots - that which gave us life and shaped our very being.  Sometimes those roots are damaged, causing a hardship in growing and moving forward, or upward.  And yet, with a little nourishment and attention even  damaged roots can bring forth more life.  I noticed in this particular group of bulbs and mass of roots there was new life in the form of new bulbs - offshoots.  Even as the tulips were growing, they were in essence, changing.  Changing within the parameters of life they were given to grow in.

Denial of any part of who I am, where I came from, the choices I've made along the way or circumstances that I have had no control over doesn't erase those situations.  The roots and history remain.  I am who I am because of that history.   The best I can hope for is that I will at some point fully flower and maybe even cause others to flower, as in the case of the tulip offshoots.  I am starting to believe fully developing and flowering can only happen by fully embracing all the history and roots, even the ugly damaged parts.

The Garden Bed and a Metaphor.

Shattered Pieces and Wholeness Found

I hold the idea of Wabi-sabi in the small of my palm, like a million pieces of shattered crystal - and I observe and learn. All of these shattered pieces are metaphors for my own life. Most of my learning (and unlearning) is done by asking questions, though sometimes by just paying attention. How do these pieces feel in the palm of my open hand; and closed? What changes do I notice amongst those little pieces as the light reflects and refracts off them? Do any of these little pieces absorb the light? Is there one specific piece I notice more than the others? What happens when I close my hand and allow very little light against the pieces; is any of the crystal visible in complete darkness? What about the shards, will they cut and cause me hurt? Can I perceive the whole of everything I hold while at the same time noticing the brokenness? In the brokenness isn't there also a wholeness? Doesn't each piece hold its own identity and yet isn't each piece still a part of the whole? These are the kinds of questions I ask...and rest with.

by way of an introduction

I sometimes wonder what the trails actually looked like on my journey to discovering Wabi-sabi. Every now and then I stop and take a metaphorical look back on the path, but I rarely see more than happenstance. A life long perfectionist, I've mostly been concerned with getting things done expeditiously and being able to claim victory over yet another check mark on the list. Occasionally prone to just plain giving up on plans and goals, I have long known that things rarely end in the way I've visualized them in the beginning and that has frequently led to disappointment, mostly in myself, but often with others. It's not difficult to see myself as a cracked pot; offering much promise, but ultimately failing at it's full and intentioned purpose.

The question that begs to be asked is this: what does one usually do with cracked pots?

Image: Unhindered by Talent