Sunday, July 10, 2011
The robin and me, we shared a succulent breakfast in the early hours of the day. Black raspberries have taken root at the edge of the yard~ all their own doing~ and they have multiplied, as gifts from the gods tend to do. And gifts they be, each honey-combed berry morphing from green to red to eggplant purple. They are a burst of nectar on the tongue, said the robin. They are subtle sweetness. They are reward.
They are also the way, for they are nature, and nature leads should we humble ourselves to follow. The way is letting go, is releasing what has been to allow the birth of the next phase in the full cycle of life. The seed must let go of its casing in fertile ground. The bud must release itself to the bloom. The bloom must shed its beauty to bear fruit. The fruit must give forth its seed to fertile ground for the sake of the vine, the stalk and the tree.
It is the death of each phase that gives birth to the new. Holding a phase, a season, longer than the sun and the wind would advise leads only to stagnation and rot of potential, however safe it may feel to be held. In the letting go lies the gift. The next phase will be vastly different from the one before and will hold its own rare beauty in ways impossible to predict.
The robin, she knows of letting go and takes her rewards as they come. I will humble myself to follow and hold open my heart to the gifts of the seed, the bloom and the fruit.