Darkness and Light

This morning as I read from The Book of Awakening,  Mark Nepo wrote of a plant growing toward the light while it's roots continue to dig deeper into the dark soil.  The plant stays alive by turning light into food. Leaves grow toward sunlight, turning it into sugar, which feeds the roots and the roots once nourished then make the stems and leaves grow further. 

I know I learned of this in grade school.  I even remember the name for this process.  Photosynthesis.  But before today I did not fully understand how this process works in everything, including us.  Until I began the painful process of going deep into my own darkness did I begin to grow into the very person I was created to be.  Without a doubt, it is the best gift I have given everyone intimately and remotely involved in my life.

If you have ever grown anything yourself, you know exactly what Mark is referencing.  Just look at these tiny pots growing sun flowers and cone flowers on my kitchen counter.  The difference in growth is one day. Without seeing it in the picture you might be able to tell where the kitchen window is too.  It's the direction toward which the leaves are turning.  Those unformed flowers naturally seek the sunshine.  It reminds me of a new born calf looking for his mother's utter.  I look at these pots every day and am continually amazed at how fast they are growing.  I planted the sun flower seeds only three days before the first green bud rumpled up the soil.

I pushed their seeds down into that dark, dank soil, expecting a week or so to pass before any growth would appear.  But daily watering and sunshine makes things happen.

It is difficult for many of us to find time to sit quietly and listen --- listen to the air moving across our face --- listen to the air escaping from our lungs --- listen to our hearts beating, singing, crying  --- listen to the love that formed us and unites us to each other. 

Since I have been sitting quietly for twenty minutes each morning, I feel more connected to the earth, the birds, my neighbors, my husband and the grocery store clerk.  For I know the pain they carry and the yearning they have hidden deep in their hearts to be desired.  It is the same for all of us, we can't help it.  Our leaves naturally want the light.  But without a daily watering of intention and a deep rooted journey to our interior space we won't withstand  blustery winds or heavy hail or whatever else life might send our way.  Darkness and light are both necessary for steady growth and flowering beauty.