The lotus pond in my hometown, Sacramento is becoming one thing and another, in transition. It is both thriving and letting go. The lotus seeds have dropped and are now in the dark, fertile mud along with many living micro-beings while the upright green leaves are still full of chlorophyll-generating oxygen and energy, reaching toward the autumn sun to nourish themselves, feed their roots for the coming winter and next year's bloom. They never give up. They continue. What a meaningful lesson. And one lotus bud amidst the field of empty pods was still waiting for its moment to blossom to their full potential.
In visiting my mother, who recently turned 95, I notice in some ways she is both thriving and letting go. Our conversation, in some ways, relies less on words and in other ways, on the fullness of rests and pauses allowing for immeasurable lessons of presence and true love.
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| thelma and louise, cultivating joy and goodness |
A recent teaching by friend and mentor, Larry Ward (https://www.thelotusinstitute.org/blog) inspired me to continue to reflect on dismantling and re-mantling. How, like lotuses, we can thrive and let go. As we say good bye in gratitude, we can also say hello, welcome.
We have the capacity to hold both.
Later that morning, I came upon a tree with three trunks and noticed how near the base a perfect resting place formed a seat. When we come together, we can form a resting place, a place to pause, that offers a refuge. Intending to seek out more spaces to pause and to nurture spaces like this for those in need of a resting place, a refuge.
And when I looked up, I found three jewels.
Looking up this morning, three jewels.
