The value of you

Note: This blog post is dedicated to the memory of MaryAnne Coyle, who died last night after suffering a burst anuerysm. She was an activist dedicated to the realization of hopes for a nuclear-free world. Thank you, MaryAnne, for the gift of you. You will be missed.

The flowers have been beautiful this year, and it has been my joy and my honor to be able to tend to gardens. The work is very life affirming. In the midst of a world filled with violence and heartbreak, there is still the garden. There are still plants dressed in vivid colors and perfumed with delightful aromas.

All the plants have to do is to exist. They bring joy, just because they exist.

And so do you. All you have to do to have value is to exist. You need do nothing more, just like those flowers, arrayed in their colorful finery.

Maybe you formed pottery with your hands. Maybe you planted the flowers or carefully dug out the weeds.

Maybe you patiently waited for a flower to open, to show its face to the world. Maybe it took as long for you to open, to shine, to share your gifts with the world. Some people take longer to shine than others. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was a child prodigy who was composing music, at an age where most are attempting to write their own names. Grandma Moses' gift for painting didn't come until she was an older adult. The child prodigy and the late bloomer blossomed when they were ready, and the world is richer for it. 

Maybe you were looking forward to the visit of a frog. Not a prince. A frog. The frog is beautiful, too. It is vivid green. The frog, like the plants, brings joy just by its existence.

Maybe you were watching the cone flowers, as they attracted bees. Perhaps you weren't afraid of the bees. Or maybe you were, but you were brave enough to watch the bees doing their bee dance around the cone flowers.

Maybe you were just walking, lost in thought, but you saw these flowers, which attract the eye, just because of their colors and their shapes.

Maybe you saw this. This feels like magic, sort of like life. There are times when just being feels like magic. It feels that way when I can feel the flowers and smell the newly turned earth. It feels that way when a friend tells me a story. It feels that way when you smile.

Maybe you watered the plants or danced in the rain. 

Maybe you got dressed up for the one you love most.

Maybe you offered help and support to someone who is shy.

Maybe you watched the sun rise and then set and the moon shine above the earth. Maybe you counted the stars in the sky, stopping only when you were mesmerized by the twinkling of just one star.

 

Maybe you arranged flowers into a colorful setting.

You are one of many bright lights in the world. Too many to count. And, if you try to count the bright lights in the world, you may stop when you become mesmerized by just one.

Thank you for reading my stories and for sharing your light with me.