it takes our undivided attention
|nestled, 6X6, acrylic on panel|
Last week, I picked up some California Poppy seeds. I have them germinating in three little pots on my windowsill. They have already sprouted. This continues to seem like such a miracle to me (yep, that's me, feeling 4 years old all over again - yippee and yahoo)! When the tips of the sprouts eventually start to look crowded under the plastic wrap, I will remove it and the mini green houses I have created will be gone. At this point, it will all be up to me (and nature) as to whether they will grow into strong plants.
This is such a strong metaphor for life, isn't it? Some things are just guaranteed and happen on auto-pilot, so to speak. I mean, pretty much anyone can create a sprout from a seed by using a pot, soil, an appropriate amount of water and plastic wrap. This is the difficult part, though: the time after one removes the plastic wrap. This is such a vulnerable period. The small sprouts need one's undivided attention on a daily basis until they are strong enough to manage days on their own. I have to admit, I lose a lot of little sprouts this way. I neglect them for one day to find them wilted and dead or I overwater them to find them weighted down and drowning.
When we are stepping out in a new world, a new place, with a new idea, a new challenge, a new thought system, a new growth, etc., etc., etc. (I could go ON here, can you tell?), we need to treat ourselves like these new sprouts (that have been released from their incubation system). In ANY sort of transition no matter how big or small (it's all relative, really truly), it is extremely important that we show up for ourselves in the most nurturing and supportive way we can or else... or else... the anticipated growth may die. Oh, and I believe if it needs to return again, it will, for sure but... why not foster it intentionally, with care, the first time?
I am recommitting to this today. Thank you and More Please...