There is just something both optimistic and calming about a well planned garden with an array of different flowers, plants and trees.
Radiant colours and sweet scents exude hope and reassurance.
Even if one is not a gardener (I am a serial flora killer), gazing over a garden makes life just that much more tolerable…
Are you finished yet ?
Washed up.
Like desiccated, limp seaweed.
On a shore of equally broken shells.
Maybe you were dragged to this place unwillingly, or you just meandered your way here on the sea swells.
The how is irrelevant.
As is the why.
The question is : Is it true?
That you are done.
That your worth is spent.
I think not.
Prove ’em wrong.
More importantly, prove it yourself.
Lead yourself to new climes.
You owe your spirit that much at least.
Are you finished yet ?
What does failure look like?…feel like?
Like the shore with the tide receded and just not coming back in.
Like a tree stripped of leaves, branches twisted over into loops.
For failure can be a cycle, a seemingly endless loop.
And when you are in that loop, you feel so, so, stuck.
The harder you try, the worse it all seems to get.
The loop becomes a tightening noose.
All you do is hope and pray for anything that will act as a circuit breaker.
And when you find it, or the universe brings the tide back in, that will be success.
Remember then what failure looks and feels like, and appreciate that success.
Because you can’t truly know success without having experienced failure.
Walked down to the river shore this afternoon to calm my head.
An ebb tide, about as far out as can be.
Mudflats, shell banks, strewn rocks exposed.
And layered and eroded sandstone, captured in this photo and then subjected to some post-production flight of fancy.
Something bright, molten and fluid resulted.
It brought to mind, and to life, a poem I wrote a while back ( I don’t write many) and posted here: Bond / Flow
This is for those who have ever lost hope.
Peace,Andy L.
If in the last post Blue Moses, Moses had the blues, I think I have them too today, or at least a nagging sense of disquiet.
But blue is also the colour of the pictured spring, one of the special places I love, where water bubbles up from deep down and there is richness and amazing clarity.
Hope springs eternal, right?
Contemporary Pasifika carved artwork catches the sun on a building exterior in Auckland yesterday.
An enclosed flower at the centre of the design ,lines radiating outwards.
Abstract symbols that spoke to me yesterday of gratitude and hope.
That may or may not be what was intended by the carver.
Beauty in the eye of the beholder ,and so forth.
In the same way ,the power of symbols lies in simple representations, over which we overlay the complex realities of our own lives.
Condensed and visible symbols help us more easily make sense of our world.
If you could express who you are ,or maybe just the day you are having, as a symbol, what would it be?
“The light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train”
You’ve probably heard this saying before; amusing yes, cynical definitely!
The problem though, is that if you are trapped in a never ending tunnel, figuratively speaking, you do not expect to see light again, and even faint hope can look like something that will betray and smash you to pieces.
But what if it is not a train?
What if it really is the end of darkness?
The belief that the light is real and is not in fact a threat is called HOPE .
Elsewhere on this blog ,there is a poem of mine ,Bond/Flow, which mentions a fountain as a symbol of hope.
Fierce hope.
I had the chance to read that poem to others today as a wish for hope for them.
For you too.
I have dealt with the theme of hope briefly in the last two posts. Rainbows are of course a symbol of hope and peace in many cultures and beliefs. But I love this succinct quote:
” Rainbows have a way of making the world seem right.”
– Anthony T. Hincks
Another, closer look at the yucca flower from yesterday’s post ‘Soft Beauty vs The Harsh Spikes’.
And today we look closer at yesterday’s tragic mass shooting in Christchurch – the shock subsides, the “why? and “how?” of analysis starts. But hope and love, the soft bloom of the heart, are constant. They are what will get us all through this.
It was on my mind early this afternoon to post this picture of a flowering yucca tree in my garden.It is a very occasional event,and quite startling in the juxtaposition of soft,creamy bloom nestling in the crown of spiky leaves.
I got home from work to the horrific news of the mass killing of Muslim worshippers here in New Zealand today,at mosques in Christchurch.
Shocking beyond belief in a generally peaceful and tolerant country.
Been glued to news updates for the past few hours; many others are hurt and the death toll may rise.
Wasn’t gonna post but my mind and heart are still racing , so I put this up in remembrance for the dead and solidarity for the innocent living .
A soft bloom of hope rises from amidst the harshness of hatred.
I wish you all peace tonight and hope for tomorrow, Andy.
ebb then flood 