Monday, 3 December 2012

A Rosemary By Any Other Name.

I lit some candles and incense. Then went outside searching for some wildflowers to complete the offering.

All I found was the rosemary bush. I keep forgetting about it but it grows anyway. Like how busy you get when you're a parent and you realise that your kids are growing up whether you're involved with them or not.

Snipped off some sprigs and took them inside.

Lighting incense is like sending smoke signals to the universe. 

Offerings remind me to be present and mindful. The rosemary called me back outside.

What is it you want to tell me, Rosemary?

It's just so straight. Growing up towards the sun. Surrounded by a broken hose, barren veggie patch, a buried dead dog only metres away.

Up and up and up. Just keep going. I doubt the rosemary bush ever even questions itself, or even knows it's a rosemary bush. It just keeps going up, following the code in its DNA. (If it had DNA.)

A baby doesn't know it was born in a slum. It grows up anyway. A widow grieving. Recoverers recovering. People hurting, striving to do the right thing.

The world is full of hope and honour.

Keep going. Keep going up.


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