Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Little white flowers

Light streams in from the window, and the dust bits curl up and dance. If nature could talk she would beckon me come and sit. Kaiya and I do so on the swing in the backyard- she with an iPad game and me with a cup of coffee. I stare in wonder at little white flowers on a tree. Sunlight catches the edges and makes them shock white like the middle of a bolt of lightening. There are moments that when you fully enter into them, you grow into something more. Noticing these, and truly being thankful for them seems to be the way to enter in.
I breathe out the long, tiring work week and breathe in my weekend that has gloriously come again. My child wrinkles her nose, in reference to something I only half heard and I notice the way her freckles splay out like a firework in the sky. She herself is a moment of glistening gold from heaven, every single bit of her.
Joining us is the boy child, a comet stream of energy dashing across the yard. Thank God we have a big yard. He could barely be contained when we lived in an apartment and he had largely skipped the whole walking thing in lieu of jumping straight to running. Don't we all. Jump straight to the next thing? 
I know I do. And if this, if entering into moments like this and slowly savoring them isn't the answer to stopping all the jumping then I don't really know what is. 
As the flowers get blown I see that they have a tinge of pink towards the center, like the poor little dears wear their hearts on the outside. Some of us do. For all of the dangers in this world one would think that wouldn't last long, but then again stranger things have happened. And wearing your heart on the outside doesn't necessarily make you weak. It makes you open.
My coffee is finished with just sugary dregs left, and it is time to leave this moment and get dinner started. I rise and walk towards the house, my eyes turned towards the branch laden with white flowers that is now billowing in a robust wind. Savoring the last moments of a sea of bobbing white flowers, splashed against a sky spasming with color as if it simply must get all the colors on display before everything goes dark again. 
It is moments like these that I carry with me when I have to go back out into the darkness. Moments like these that make you open. Moments, that if you stop for a bit to appreciate them, and fully let them in, will change you for the better.


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