One day as I was leaving Healthy Living, a health food store and home of my guilty pleasures, I spotted a stand of dahlias in their final autumn blush. The pink and yellow blooms were colorful splashes in the otherwise sober landscape of rain and asphalt. I stopped to look more closely, in keeping with my family MO as a beauty junkie or sunset geek. Sometimes this is noted fondly, other times not, as I pause to admire or take photographs (yet again.)
At the center of one dahlia were two bees doing their instinct-driven work. There was no sign of competition or stress. Just a task and a moment, the flower as flower, the bees as bees, a relationship complete. Each one was whole, separately and together.
As humans we have travelled so far from the simplicity of instincts, natural rhythms, checks and balances, every moment imbued with its own completeness. Instead, many of us rush and toil, a little or a lot displaced in the scheme and balance of nature, at times detached or displaced from our true calling and purpose, writ small and large in the inner and outer landscapes.
As I observe the bees at the heart of this blossom fresh with raindrops, I want to stop time. I long to find my way forward into a place where timelessness and wholeness are expressed in the steady, worthy task before me. Then I remember. This is what I experience in the presence of others engaged in growth and healing work. It’s a form of awareness and grace as natural as observing and absorbing beauty. And we’re in it together.