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| photo by david talley via flickr |
It’s well known in these parts but I wonder if it’s well
seen. The road that passes it, is busy. The parking lot, is almost full. But
the trees, they hang a little lonely and their trunks beg to be seen. Isn’t
that why their bumps stick out just a little bit more rugged and their flowers
smell just a little bit more beautiful? Aren’t they aching to be recognized,
hoping to heard?
I think so.
And what about the gravel as it crunches under foot? Do you
hear it tell you of the last man that traveled by? Did his hip ache, did his
wife hurt his feelings? Or was it a woman worried about her blood pressure and
the gossip she heard at work? Did it try to tell you what it felt as you walked
upon its back? Did you let yourself listen? Or did you laugh it off as silly
stuff, the kind of talk only crazies hear?
I think so.
And what about the dancing whispers of the sea? As you walk
along your gravel path and gaze upon the trees, do you dare to sense the sea? Do
you notice how it ripples and curdles and plays …. with far off memories? A
tale of a sailor. Another of a dream. Of love and loss in Africa and wails
beneath those seams. Do you remember its memories as if they are your own? For
aren’t they? Aren’t we all, a memory of the sea?
I think so.
But most of all, when you walk along your seaside path and
see another near .… do they, see you? Do you huddle in your bubble, lost within
your world, or do you find the courage within yourself to be present enough …. to
smile? If the trees can express what they are feeling, if the gravel can pass
on what it hears, if the sea indeed carries long forgotten memories, then you ….
can you pass on your You?
I think so.
Yes, you can.
* * *
A real smile is a gift. Of energy. From your deepest You. If
you give it away, and it is returned, your energy is always, always,
always—multiplied. And if you give it away and it is not returned, then you
know, know, know, it was needed elsewhere for a time and elsewhere it needs to
be. Never wasted. Never lost. Always living, Always stirring. Always growing ….
something magic. In you, or in our trees ….
6 comments:
Powerful Brynne, Thank you!!! As someone very special once told me, " The most beautiful gift you can give is that of your authentic Presence ". Seems the more present I am with Myself the easier it is to smile authentically at strangers regardless of their response:). Something rooting deeper in Me.
I love to learn from nature...and how it is always its authentic Self. How can it be anything less? Wouldn't it be wonderful if we human beings couldn't ever be anything less than our authentic Selves, either? Just think of the smiles!:)
Thanks for your beautiful thoughts, dear Tim! Hugs!
A friend of mine used to say 'ojos' to me all the time - 'eyes' in Spanish - because she knew I had a tendency to not look directly into people's eyes. And she thought I should do so more. A lot more. Why I naturally do not look more directly and automatically, I'm not completely sure. But I have done so much more in recent months, especially after reading a lovely passage that described a friend's reaction when she and I made eye contact (hmmm who was that?). And today, while out interviewing, I made a point of not just looking into people's eyes, but adding a genuine smile as I greeted people. It was amazing. My smile was, indeed, returned and multiplied. The interviews were all good, all interesting. Maybe even some new friends made. Just like that. Just like that. A great Wednesday wish that made my Thursday soooo much better. A million thanks to the 10th power...
Your eyes are rich with treasures, a soul with wisdom way beyond your years. And you see...deeply. When your insides are as rich as they are, it may be trying sometimes to come out and interact with others who tend to keep themSelves so buried. Maybe lately you are realizing that a gift of yours is to provide safety...for those buried Selves you meet...inviting them to come out and into the light. Of course you will make new friends anywhere you reveal yourSelf, my dear Michael. You are shelter from the storm, warmth in the mist, Presence in a sea of absent Selves. I remember. And still, I smile.:)
what a wonderful post Brynne...coming from an equally wonderful person
...and coming from you, my wonderfully beautiful Jo...that means sooo much to me. I am soOo glad you can post again. I missed you terribly, pea berry:)
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