The weeds, with their shallow, spindly roots. The thoughts you don’t really believe. The stories the mind tells. Ground cover. Run for cover. Do not be smothered. Do not be threatened. Just stop. Stop feeding them. Stop and nourish your roots, your own deep roots.
And look! The iris, the peony, the poppy, the maple, the oak, the cyprus, the almond, the olive, the towering tulips and the reddest rose, nourish the roots, deep and strong, and watch them thrive. Without the roots, that sustenance, that grounding, the anchor buried deep beneath the surface of things, they will whither, topple, die.
Reach! The sun is calling.
Shine! We need you here.
And root down, down where nobody sees, where only faith can take you to knowing what is hidden from view, reach through movement or stillness, through silence or music, through slowness or sweat. How doesn’t matter. The why is love. And the who is you, here, now, extending into your day, reaching into yourself, balancing the two, opposing forces creating stability, equal parts, reaching, rooting, offering, receiving, giving and taking.
Image by French Toast Girl