what the seeds told me this week

seeds 1Each and every seed carries within it the code for its own doom, as well as for the perpetuation of it’s own kind.

Upon making the effort the germinate, the individual seed itself is destroyed. It’s a beautiful destruction, as it may lead to another green plant, but be it a flower, a weed, or a tree, there is a destruction involved none the less.

The beans have a particularly creative style of accomplishing their transformation, as they use the meaty part of their seeds as the cotyledons, which wilt back as the true leaves mature. Other plants leave just a little husk behind as whatever is left of the seed is absorbed into stem or root, or sloughed off.seeds 4

Seeds have no choice. Given the right circumstances – temperature, moisture, light – a seed uses its inborn vitality and makes an attempt to germinate. If it has been made to wait too long in adverse conditions, that vitality may diminish, and if the moment to sprout never comes, the seed will eventually decompose. Again, the seed’s destruction feeds the living soil.  Whenever a seed gets an opportunity, it plays its part. Even at its own expense, the seed does what it can to bring about more life in abundance.seeds 5

The seed has no housework. The seed doesn’t make apologies. The seed doesn’t juggle a busy schedule. The seed doesn’t linger with good-byes.  The seed has no choice. We do.

Change challenges us. And change is completely unavoidable. There’s something about our capacity for freedom that breeds a spirit of resistance, and attachment. But if we resist the change coming our way, we will still be changed by the very fact of our resistance. If we cling to our beautiful moments, they will never mature into the sacred mundane. If we cling to our pain, we might not find out what it was for.

Some changes are more difficult than others. We are not seeds. We choose. Every moment, we choose, to be awake to life and its changes, or sleep through it and deal with change re-actively, and in the retrospect. To take the bull by the horns, or be thrown. But we can take a lesson from the seeds. They are sprouting up all over the place right now.

The lesson is clear…

Sprout. Grow. Bloom. Set free some more seeds.  Carry on.seeds 2seeds 3

Set aside fear, and vanity.  You will never be the same.  You never were.  Don’t let your unfulfilled potential rot like a seed that never got a chance. When it’s time to grow – let grow.

It’s Life itself that is really so beautiful.seeds 6

how we roll

you wouldn’t guess it by looking at me now, but i was once a city chick:   yup, born and raised in chicago. my upbringing, as with each of ours’, plays out in my adult life often and with great interest. i’ve been thinking of it lately because my first born, my baby now young man, is about to be a licensed driver.

i guess this might need more explanation for the correlation is a wee bit abstract. in my months of early driving, in those white knuckle moments of parent and child on the road, i had countless opportunities to parallel park. you know, the most challenging of the roadworthy have-tos, the hard part of that road test. i was well prepared because i tell you when you learn to drive in downtown chicago, you master the parallel park. in rural kentucky;  not so.

so today on this sunny late winter sunday, the last day before my baby’s road test. we practiced parallel parking, kentucky style, over and over again.



20′ by 9′ standard parking space. yep, i think were ready.


right now :: always learning something

I was in a recent exchange with an old friend in which I got to express how much I’ve grown and learned from being a parent. Cliche as is sounds, it’s only true.  My children have taught me so much about who and how I am, blowing away most of my previously held concepts of who and how I thought myself to be.  nail w lulah

And of course, just after making those comments, I am granted an opportunity to experience their reality once again.

Our Lulah is a tough farm girl, make no mistake. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like to dress up sometimes. Pink isn’t in her favorite color spectrum, but shiny tattoos and sparkly fingernails are alright by her. She discovered that one of the boxes of fake fingernails in her collection was really for adults. Only a couple of them would have fit her little nails. So she beseeched me to wear them.nails 2

I have never in my life worn fake fingernails. Never. In my whole life.

But for my daughter, of course I will.nails

I had no idea. My simple working hands felt like alien attachments to the ends of my arms. Besides the incredible difficulty I had just applying the nails, I kept scratching myself and banging my fingers into things because I was so distracted by the sensation of the nails, and their extreme length.

Lulah, on the other hand, was completely thrilled.

I felt better when I trimmed them down to a reasonable size.

Lulah was miffed.

So, I have learned more lessons. The lessons never end.

First, I have learned how people who wear fake fingernails feel. I don’t know how they do it, day after day. I respect their dedication to the absurd little adornments, I guess. I wish them well, at least.

Second, I have learned that though it can be fun for my hands to look just a little fancy, I really like my hands, fingers, and fingernails just the way they are. I was so relieved when the first fake nail fell off.

Third, I have learned what I really need to learn time and time again- that it is worth it to play with my daughter in every phase of her precious life.nails all 3