Are you a crocus flower?
Today's blog was absolutely intended to be an ode to Fiona Rainbow, the pig pictured here. I thought I'd write her obituary and fancied Shawn writing a bit about his experiences in her journey to the "Big Farm". But, other things are on my mind today.
The news is glum, as over half the world motivates to help a tiny nation I am urged to pull up my boots and walk across this large country and swim to its borders, just to hold a grieving child. We have no television at home, which I am so grateful for. The images would burst my heart. The technologically driven world has this way of making us all neighbors, our hearts connected with our common humanity. The feelings of connection; of neighborly duty are overwhelming, urging us to reach out our hand in support-- yet our physical bodies are unable-- we are so far away. Enmeshed in the complexity of grief and need, the shadowy siblings of jealousy, anger and want are clinging, looking for an opportunity to be heard. I pray that our neighbors, not just in Haiti, but all over this world, will find strength and love through the simplicity of each day's movement-- the in and out of one's breath, the beat of a heart, a tender kiss, the gentle breeze, a setting sun, a spoon stirring-- the movements that make up a day, however troubled, give us something to grasp hope and love with.
The depth of winter in Maine is cold and lonely. It irritates and its silence deafens. It is easy to fall into the grayness of the skies and the chill in the bones. Wake us up, we call to spring-- wake us up, we call to our selves. But soon, the sap will run, the sound of bird chat will be everywhere and the crocus will rise, through that depth of cold and lonliness, to welcome the sun's warmth back to our little corner of reality.
The crocus flower is on my mind-- its metaphor staggering. The crocus calls to the challenges of the world and of the soul. This beauty forces its way literally through frozen ground, ice and snow even, and bursts open -in spite of- all that stands against it. Its determination to bring change, beautiful change, to the world around it, is inspiring. The crocus brings spring ready or not-- inevitably breaking patterns and worn out woes and wishful for, but not dependent on, the world's embrace. The vastness of the world is but an amplified reflection of the small communities that we move about our daily lives in. Community is what we make it, how far we can hold it authentically is up for each of us to create. Its not quite time, but I hope someday that this little farm can reach its hand across the wide land to help a faraway neighbor. For now, sights are set on bursting forth from this frozen ground into our own little Maine community.
They raise this brave battle cry
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