Two months ago in the dry July heat, I planted seeds. Squirrels managed to eat every sprout that pushed itself through the soil but this one. One seed survived squirrels, drought and my negligence in watering to climb its way up through the clematis on our deck and the next thing I knew there were two blossoms.
One evening this week as I tried to stay on task before company arrived, I looked out the window and realized the beautiful spiral blossom had opened revealing the moon flower in its glory. I smiled, headed upstairs to prepare our guest's room then stopped. I turned around, went to the deck, pulled up a chair and sat face to face before this divine gift.
I sat that evening off and on for over an hour exchanging something palpable, experiencing what I call an I-can-die-now moment. I hadn’t been wanting to die, but it would be okay if I did, not because I’ve just accomplished some lifelong goal or feat, but because I experienced such deep satisfaction in the quiet wonder and presence of Nature. For me, life doesn’t get any better than this.
I thought of the scientists at CERN who had just revealed neutrinos may travel fast than the speed of light. My experience will not make their radar or the news but I sensed something traveling, something palpable in the space of three feet between the moon flower and me.
Rather than rush to prepare room for company, I opened a room within for the company of the moon flower. I’ve continued to savor this divine experience as it now enfolds a day later into a tightly cupped miracle which I imagine holds my energy as I hold it.
I imagine my energy trekking through its green veins down into the dark soil infusing Earth with my love while I likewise trek through my day, sharing the light of the moon flower with all I meet.
-Dawn, The Good News Muse, 1 October 2011