So here we are, again, in a new year, a new thing, a thing we might find weighty in our hands. Look at those hands, the ones that loved, protected, damaged, and controlled. They are your hands. They have immense power and can hold the weight, if lift is our thinking, and it has to be. Those hands need to shift their thinks. The sink is all around us, the cruelty, the ignorance of so so many others. Recently, I was in the city, for cancer wotwot, and saw the pavement people, everyone walking by, sharp, fast, refusing. I realised that, since Covid, nobody has cash, but that is not ok. So not ok.
I have heard until, until I am fed up of hearing the voices of the ‘rich’, whispering that, if you give, your gift will be spent on drink or drugs. Do not listen. I don’t. And here’s the thing. Nobody on the street is warm, welcomed, fed, cosy. Not one. They didn’t come here from optimum choice, but from a place of loss, one way or another. Giving is what we must do if this broken world is ever to heal.
Wherever you grow, bloom strong and petal wide, don’t hide, but spread your colour, blue, is it, red, or butter yellow, white? Be right with it, your colour, for it is yours alone. Hold your own. Your ground may be rocky, may be rich and soft, a mountainside, a beach path, garden, river bank. Give thanks for wherever you find yourself. Hold out your petals, let them fly. Reach and reach up to the light, breathe right. Your breath is life, in joy or strife, breathe on, breathe life. In shade or sun, you are the one. Make a difference. Have fun and look around you. Who grows beside or over there? Another soul with hopeful roots, just pushing through in fear, perhaps, a delicate heart, easily broken by careless feet or the lash of punishing rain, only to die. in silence.
Cry out in anger, but stand your ground, for those who stand will remember those who fall. All of them. And share your light, your bright, your coloured heart, beating yet on the battlefield. Don’t yield, but glow with life, and, tender-fingered, lift a drooping head. Warm a faltering body, say I Am Here, and I will not leave you empty. Share your mystery, your very soul. Hide nothing, let nothing cold you, hold you fixed in ice.
Notice every season, reason, but not too much. Touch another, lift, don’t drift, for Time moves on, fleeing like a thief in disbelief. Hold each blooming moment, roots in the earth, head in the sky. Let pain go by, toss it to the wind, the changeling wind with stories on her back. Remember this, don’t miss the chance to lead another to the dance. Share your light. Be curious, like Alice, and leave your smile among the trees for bees to honey up and sweeten. Reflect the sun, the rain, the moon, and do it soon, because winter always comes, and for some it never leaves.
No matter your ground, make it better for your being there. Nourishing, flourishing, sharing, caring, thankfully placed. Just where you need to be. Let laughter fill your throat and let it fly out like birds or butterflies to lift a flagging soul up and out of sadness, to spin the bitter into glitter. A million rainbows lie within you, let them show, because you know that, no matter the chatter, you have the power to choose or lose out. Here. Today. Right this minute. Tick. Tick, Tock, they say, don’t look away, but stay, because this ground needs you and there are seedlings at your feet.
In shade or sun, You Are the One.