It seems some of us are the eternal Gypsy. While some of us find the deep, long term commitment compelling, healing, and the place to be.
But what is true is that we are all here to learn about love.
What is love? In M. Scott Peck’s classic work, he states that love is the will to extend oneself for one’s own, or another’s, spiritual growth.
I was talking last night about intimacy. That ability to see, hear, feel and be seen.
In the Spiritual ID course, we always have flowers in the center altar.
We were in a conversation about an intimacy with the world. With life itself.
And how this happens when we take the moments – have the opportunity to say Hello to all that is living in us and around us, to feel the life of the flowers and how their spirit touches us, informs us with their aliveness, encompasses and holds us. What we love, we treasure – that doesn’t mean we don’t have our full range of emotions and expectations. Maybe the flowers that haven’t bloomed yet are like the myriad of spring daffodil, hyacinth and tulip shoots just surfacing from the cool, dark of winter soil. Sometimes we want to force the bloom, but can we appreciate the stages of growth and time of each being? The requirements for such breaking through and then open….? Seasons moving at their natural pace and then an awakening in our own bodies, minds and hearts as we slow down, maybe to allow our minds, touched by the new shoots, to notice the ecstatic openings of the earth that press new life towards the Sun.
This intimacy came over me last week when walking in the I.D., I saw the most beautiful crushed flowers on the pavement. I took a photo I needed to see, the orange against the grey – stepped on by many soles…. I wondered how many human beings had touched them. I remembered being in Bali and all the offerings of leaves, flowers, rice and food and how they would make offerings not only to the deities, but also to the lower spirits who carry the darkness and guard the worlds we do not seek. But I came here to this sidewalk in the International District in the surly grey surrounding everything like a blank canvas so anything that blooms or has color surfaces in an ecstatic dance on the surface of the city that becomes dizzy with its earth color – this emerald city made of evergreens and moody skies – emerges from beneath our feet in clouds of moss and effervescent lichen. But here this beauty reminds me of Bali and these gifts for the world in all its blessings and guardians, angels and ancestors and all its monsters, demons and things that take over sometimes the very people or things that we love the most. But we have this ability to see and feel blessed by the world and its particular beauty and to be cleansed by tidal waves of rain and to know how to leave flowers where we know – maybe not even how – they are needed.
Though the beauty and love is desperately needed everywhere.
Creator made beauty – what do I see wherever I go?
What do I notice about myself in what I am seeing?
What is my noticing showing me about my noticing?
What is my relationship to the natural world?
How do I experience and express my love for the world?