all I’ve ever asked for is…

When courage bubbles up, I’ve learned something important for me. About me. I must jump on the moment – this very moment of flames jumping skyward – to take action. Because I know that this specific flavor of action for me is a passing wind. It isn’t a constant breeze.

And I sit and wonder, have I cooked enough?

For this idea or that action?
For this opportunity or that possibility?

Is my knowledge cooked enough?
Is my skill cooked enough?
Has the timer gone off yet?

And why, may I ask, isn’t there a timer on this brain of mine anyway? Can’t it tell me when I’m ready already? Like a label maker (out the back of my head maybe) that spits out the little white strip of block print, “READY.” Or when the stove completes its pre-heat and beeps. Or the little pin pops out so you know “Turkey done!”

That’s all I’m asking for from this body-mind-heart mashup of me.

Is that really too much to ask?

Because sometimes / many times, I’m not sure if I’m the hydrangea on the left or the one on the right.

Am I at my peak and of many shades of lovely and ripeness in my blues and purples?

Or am I barely there, mostly green with a blossom or two that has saturated with color?

I don’t know. I really don’t. And most days it doesn’t matter.

But today, as I stare at these two flowers, I really do wonder. Which of these beautiful blooms mirrors my brain? Which one tells me what I need to know about where I’m at? About where I’m going?

And I suppose I know the answer. The simple truth – as it always is.

Right. Both show me where I’m at,
both show me where I’ve been,
both show me where I’m going. Both.

I am both.

We are both,
you and me.

Huh. Look at us.
Look at us in green. Look at us in bloom.

We’re really quite remarkable, you know.

With love and admiration,

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