Do you have a ceramic flower pot sitting outside your window? Is it filled with purple and yellow petunias that not only look gorgeous, but have a sweet-tangy aroma, especially after you water them? Or maybe you have something larger—a whole garden, alive with a stunning array of daisies, poppies, marigolds, geraniums, cosmos, gladiolas? At long last we’re way out of our winter shells and into the time of the year when everything is budding or blooming.
Look around you. If all the flowers could hum or speak, we would drown in their voices. Blossoms shout at you with soundless vibrations that insist in not only attracting you, but seducing you. Step into their space and experience the magic of who they are and what they’re about.
Look at their curves, their clusters, tubules, spikes, their colors, the aura of their beauty, sensuality. You can’t help yourself, you have to reach out and touch them if only to make sure they’re real. And they’re only here for a limited time, but they still know how to draw you into their world, make us love them, understand them.
And we sort of get it.
If you look at poppies holding their orange faces up to the sun, they seem to smile. And like the bees buzzing all around, we’re drawn into their world, even hypnotized. I often wonder how something that delicate could be so strong. Winds tear at them, animals roll in them. We watch all of this in wonder, our eyes sucking it all in. Every flower is different, just the way we are. Poppies are wild and free, Calla Lilies are tall and shapely, they give us a sense of their elegance, their sophistication—like women dressed for the opening night at the opera – tall and stunning.
If you spend a lot of time in the garden, and look at flowers long enough, you begin to notice other things—the leaves, the entire plant that carries those pretty things, holds them up for the birds and bees, and for us to see. And after a while, we look up at the sky and the trees catch our attention. Did you know if you look at your skin under a microscope it looks like tree bark? And the veins in leaves? They’re not too different from our own.
Is all that living stuff out there really like us? Are we like them? Random packed molecules in a floating universe.
Are we all one?
When I work in the garden, I always end up covered in dirt, or mud, with scratches, welts, bug bites, and thorn-punctured skin. But while I’m grunting as I pull weeds that truly have roots that go to China, or while cutting away blackberry bushes that have grown overnight and are now too big to do anything but cut them to ground level, I know that I’ve gone back to where it all began. That’s the message I get from flowers, from trees, or even from lions and elephants at the other end of the world. We are all linked, have universal connections to each other. If any of those links are broken or parts of it become extinct, we start dying, too. A little at a time.
There is a powerful force—I like to think of it as a golden light. It carries universal energy that spreads throughout one massive network of life—flora, fauna, plants, animals, everything. And we are not only joined to each other, we all have the same mother. Mother Earth.
How do I know that?
Because I belong to that massive network that integrates flowers, plants, animals, the living ocean.
When I look at all that life around me, see all that beauty, I like to think of it as looking into a mirror of ourselves. That splendor? It’s you. It’s me. How do I know that?
I just do.
Coming Soon: Rx Deferred, a dystopian medical thriller.