"Be willing to be a beginner every single morning."
-- Meister Eckhart
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| Morning Glory 7-25-14 |
"A morning glory at my window satisfies me
more than the metaphysics of books."
-- Walt Whitman
Earlier this spring Leo planted some pots full of flower seeds.
One pot has been growing stalky sunflowers.
Another contains a crazy wildflower blend.
My favorite, though, are the Morning Glories. They're in the pot with the tall, fragile, willowy tangle of green vines and heart-shaped leaves winding their way up slender stakes, reaching for the sky. The first two buds on this one finally unfurled yesterday morning, so that the first thing I saw when I looked out the kitchen window were the fresh, wide-open faces of two Morning Glory blooms.
It made me feel good.
I think I might have said something like "Hey, Morning Glories! There you are! I've been waiting for you."
Morning Glories are smart flowers. They take advantage of the early morning sun to get their blooming done, and as the afternoon wanes and evening falls, they wisely close up shop and turn in early, somehow re-wrapping their papery, fluttery, blue and purple petals back inside that tight pointy whorl where they rest all night.
When they wake well-rested the next morning, they are bright eyed -- literally -- with a light-up yellow center that practically glows with brightness and hope and encouragement.
The hopeful presence of these flowers makes me feel like I might just have a chance of getting a re-start on some stuff I've been fucking up and stumbling over lately.
Leo's Morning Glories remind me every morning that it's never too late to start over, to try again, to go back to the beginning and give it another shot.
Morning after morning after morning after morning.
