Tag: flowers

A Timeless Morning

We can find many entry points to Presence in the course of our lives. Presence: the experience of oneness with all things; timeless awareness; Spirit. It could arise unexpectedly in the midst of crisis or celebration, sound or silence, solitude or community. We each cross the threshold to Presence in our own way, in our own time. Yet, we all reach it at some point, and if we are fortunate, our hearts open wide enough to live there permanently.

For me, Nature is the eternal gateway to Presence in my life. In small glimpses or panoramic views. Green trees and blue skies outside my window. Distant snow-covered mountains seen from an airplane. Or, walking in a nature sanctuary as the seasons change throughout the year. I have often written about Mt. Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, which is my bird’s eye view to the natural world. And I mean that literally: the birds are always part of my walks there. But then, honestly, so is everything else: flowers, trees, ponds, hills, dells, butterfly gardens and native plantings. To me, it’s paradise on Earth. It renews my spirit and feeds my soul.

One morning this past August, I walked through Mt. Auburn’s gates and was immediately immersed in Presence. I could feel a powerful vibrancy of life everywhere I looked. The late summer flowers (hydrangea, Angelica gigas, Joe Pye weed, phlox, black-eyed susan) blooming in the Asa Gray Garden were stunning, and they were surrounded by dozens of bees dancing through the air, flying from one to another, collecting pollen. Tiger swallowtail and monarch butterflies floated by as well, as did dragonflies. I stood mesmerized by the beauty, the sun making everything around me sparkle with light.

As I walked farther, I heard familiar bird calls in the trees and bushes: catbird, white-breasted nuthatch, downy woodpecker, flicker, robin, cardinal. Bright yellow-and-black goldfinches were fleetingly visible, calling and swooping by like an avian Cirque du Soleil. The chirping and buzzing of crickets and locusts was also part of this symphony of natural sounds, as was the occasional scolding of a squirrel or chipmunk. At one point, I stopped and stood silently listening, eyes closed. When I did so, I realized that for more than an hour, I had been completely One with all I heard and saw, no separation; my mind had stepped aside entirely. Time was absent. It was a glorious feeling of sacred connection and complete alignment with the world around me and within me. Presence. Tears of gratitude and joy filled my eyes.

I have had similar moments before in Nature, but this particular expanse of timeless Presence seemed especially all-encompassing and beyond the realm of language. The closest I can come is to say that my individual “I” had disappeared into the eternal “I Am,” the center of all being in the cosmos. I was one with the music of the spheres as it played out everywhere around me. Later, I realized that from the soul’s view, this is what is occurring all the time for every one of us. 

Equinox Reflections

The Spring Equinox has just passed. It is lighter longer now, day by day. Every night, the sound of the spring peepers in the nearby woods fills the air. The buds of the forsythia, magnolia, and cherry trees are slowly swelling in size and turning yellow and pink. The witch hazel is in bloom, as are a few daffodils and crocuses. Red-winged blackbirds have returned, with their noisy ringing calls. The temperatures are warming, and there is promise in the air. Spring always lifts my spirits. Possibility reawakened. Life is hard, yes, but it is also beautiful.

This is the view I hold in my heart each morning. It helps me face the parts of life that aren’t so positive these days: so many people hating one another everywhere. Hatred is completely contrary to the human spirit, which sees “family,” not “enemy,” in the world. How do we keep that compassionate loving core alive now?

For me, it’s those tiny frogs and flower buds that give me hope. The spring bird migration, which I look forward to all year, also brings me joy and a sunny outlook each April and May morning as more and more birds arrive. Those extraordinary small winged beings who fly thousands of miles from Central and South America to raise families in North America. What a miracle each one of them is, their songs so beautiful and varied. The wood thrush’s song alone is worth a trip to the woods just to hear it. Ethereal, flute-like, pure magic. And the colorful warblers, orioles, tanagers, flycatchers, bluebirds, catbirds, and hummingbirds. Enough sights and sounds to fill you with gladness for a lifetime.

In spite of everything, there is beauty in our lives on this blue planet floating in space. So I continue to open my eyes each morning and smile as I look at the light from the rising sun on the trees outside my window. The cardinal is singing his cheery notes, as are the robins, goldfinches, and song sparrows. Humans may argue, fight, and judge one another, but the birds will continue to sing, as the flowers and trees reach upward with all their life force to the heavens above. Each one is a reflection of your own peaceful soul. Open your heart and allow the vibrant life force within you to expand with gratitude and love. 

Sweet Peas and Dancing Trees

When you move from one place to another, the way in which you view your surroundings day to day changes. Depending on how far you move and how different one location is from another, your perceptional shift can be imperceptible or radical. But it always happens. When I was in my 20s and 30s, I used to move frequently for just this reason: it was like throwing everything up in the air and starting all over again. Whether across town or coast to coast, the world was a different place. Traveling has the same effect. All my senses come alive in new ways. I am consciously interrupting habit, and I love it.

My partner and I recently moved to a condo on the opposite side of Boston from where we had lived for years in various apartments. This was after a move to Florida for two years. It is wonderful to be back in Massachusetts, and this current move has introduced us to an entirely unfamiliar town, quite different from where we used to live. It took a number of months for me to open fully to the change. I really missed where we lived for so many years (which was very close to Mt. Auburn Cemetery, my favorite nature sanctuary). Now, however, gradually, the sense of newness is reawakening my full awareness in unexpected ways.

For instance, last week on my daily walk I discovered bright pink and white sweet peas growing wild in the area next to the woods across from our condo. It was such a delight because it reminded me of my childhood in the Illinois countryside, where sweet peas blanketed the fences with their beautiful blooms. I never knew they could grow wild in the fields like I am seeing here. These were covered with bees and butterflies, and I stood watching them for quite a while in deep appreciation.

This past spring the cherry, crab apple, and red bud trees blooming here were also a surprise, as were the dozens of song sparrows and house finches singing all day from March on. Joined by cardinals, robins, Carolina wrens, gold finches, red-winged blackbirds, and catbirds, they have been a particularly powerful welcoming for me, as I was uncertain how many birds would be nearby. But the woods that surround the condo buildings are a natural habitat for them. Flocks of spring migrants have flown in, as well as birds that remain here all year. The entire area is alive with avian life.

The trees themselves are my latest source of inspiration and wonder. As the weather and winds change, the tall, intensely green oak, maple, beech, birch, and other trees reflect the shifts in air movement in quite dramatic ways. They dance! From our third-floor windows, I watch them quite literally dance with the wind, swaying synchronously like an Alvin Ailey or Martha Graham dance troupe. The music of the spheres seems to move them, and I feel a part of the greater movement of the universe as I watch their collective branch and leaf motion so perfectly in unison against the sky and clouds. Each time I gaze at them is a fresh look at life itself.

Every day now, my heart expands in gratitude for these gifts of Nature that surround me—and for the ability to see and hear them. As my habitual ways of perceiving fall away, the world opens up around me, and I remember that this can happen anywhere at any time. Moving does shake things up, but I can also keep my sensual acuity sharp by living each moment with wide-open awareness. Even walking in the same area in different seasons is a continually new experience. As I look out my window each morning at the ever-changing details of the natural world before me, I feel such joy—and my soul dances with the trees.

The World Is a Garden

For many years I had a garden filled with a variety of flowers in our yard in Massachusetts. After we moved to Florida, I created a smaller “garden” of potted flowers on our lanai. Now, back home in the Boston area, the backyard we share with our downstairs neighbors really has no room for a garden like my previous one. Instead, I have begun taking long walks through the neighborhoods of our town to delight in other people’s gardens. I have found this to be an unexpected gift of my return to New England. I loved having my own garden, but now I am enjoying the entire town’s gardens, as well as those at nearby Mt. Auburn Cemetery. Suddenly, the whole world has become a garden—or I am realizing it always was.

What a beautiful truth that is. The Earth that is our home is a Garden of Eden available to all, if we could remember to see it that way. Mother Nature has no borders or boundaries, no “mine” and “yours.” Humans build fences, claim ownership, but trees, plants, and flowers have unlimited connections beneath the fenced land which we can’t even see. The strength of their living energy has a power beyond wire fences and concrete walls.  Vines can topple fences, and trees can break through sidewalks. Ultimately, life cannot be contained; it flowers everywhere.

In the 1960s we called this “flower power,” and it defined a generation’s consciousness and vision of the future. But you don’t have to call yourself a flower child to see the unity of life displayed in the gardens of the world (as well as the wilderness). Humans often think they are separate from Nature; yet all it takes is a shift in awareness to see the oneness from which we have all emerged and that links us together. And this is exactly what I experienced as I walked daily from winter to spring to summer to autumn. Every day was a blessing and a revelation. Each neighbor’s unique garden with its seasonal changes was a cause for celebration.

Beginning in March and April, I watched flower bulbs push up through the frozen ground and trees begin to bud. Crocuses, daffodils, tulips, hyacinths. Redbud, crabapple, dogwood. Forsythia and lilac bushes. What glorious colors everywhere! New growth each day. The tiny yellow-green leaves of the maple and oak trees silhouetted against the clear-blue spring sky took my breath away. In May, June, and July, the colors grew even more vivid. Rainbow reds and purples and yellows. Magentas and pinks. Azalea, rhododendron, hydrangea, rose of Sharon, columbine. Every yard I passed seemed to have different variations. I have never seen so many kinds and colors of irises and lilies as I have this past year on my walks through town.

I didn’t have to “own” these flowers to love them or to appreciate my neighbors’ creativity and imagination in the plantings. It was like looking at living versions of Monet’s paintings of the gardens at Giverny. The colors and life flowed together from yard to yard. Everything seemed to breathe and grow as one. And as I passed by, I too was a part of that living painting that Nature imagines into being each year when the seasons change. In September, the colors were still vibrant in the zinnias, black-eyed susans, marigolds, ageratum, and asters. The tree leaves turned in October to brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows, and soon the bare branches were once again silhouetted against the sky. As winter arrives with its white snows, red holly berries, and deep green pine trees, the seasonal cycles continue.

This is what I discovered in not having my own backyard garden: Everywhere I looked was Nature’s beauty, none of it “mine” but all of it a shared blessing. I was at times moved to tears by the simplest, most delicate flower or the splendor of a tree covered with blossoms, radiant in the sun. The Earth gives us these gifts every day. Open your heart and receive them. Even that small flower blooming in a crack in the sidewalk on a city street is a miraculous part of a greater whole that includes you and me.

You Are Perfect Now

Photograph © 2018 Peggy Kornegger
Perfection is not something beyond you. Something out there, to reach for and aspire to. It’s right here, right now. This is a small gem of wisdom that I sometimes forget. Small but it is at the core of all that is. There are no flaws in God’s universe (or in you within that universe). Everything is part of a seamless, intricately interwoven tapestry of divine creation. When I fully embrace this truth, I can let go of striving, comparing, and dissatisfaction. I can live with appreciation and gratitude in every moment for the perfection everywhere. I may not know the “why,” but I can trust in the reasonless reason for all Being.

This morning before dawn, I sat on the sofa of our new home in Florida and cried as I remembered my garden in Massachusetts. I ached inside at the memory of my colorful flowers and the butterflies and bees who visited them. There, I was part of the seasonal flow of nature. The robins called to me if I didn’t fill the birdbath early enough each summer morning. The squirrels and rabbits occasionally sat near me as I worked quietly in the yard. The hummingbirds darted rapidly from the bright-red cardinal flowers to the native honeysuckle. The goldfinches balanced atop the purple coneflowers as they ate the seeds in autumn. I missed them all.

Yet I knew it had been time to leave. The house was sold, neighbors were moving, and Florida was calling. It was all perfect. Today, that perfection met me when I went for a walk after my predawn cry. The immense stunningly white clouds against the intensely blue sky stopped me in my tracks. The skies are always breathtaking in Florida. At all times of the day I am in awe at the color and light. And then there are the tropical flowers and birds right outside my door: hibiscus, plumeria; ibis, egret, heron. I love my new home, even when I miss my Massachusetts garden.

At times I think I should always be upbeat and smiling. Centered in my inner God wisdom and flowing along life’s path in complete synchronicity with every experience. The crazy truth is that I am synchronized, whether I’m crying or laughing. Perfection is not the exclusion of certain feelings; it’s the inclusion of all of them. There is absolutely nothing that is not the way it should be in my life, and yours. Our human design is so tightly constructed that every part is essential. If any of it was missing, we would not be who we were created to be, and there would be a hole in the fabric of the universe. Everything is unfolding as it’s meant to, for the greater evolution of life.

In essence, none of us is flawed and nothing is wrong with us; we are perfect just the way we are, here on this planet to live an experience that is uniquely ours. God experiences life on Earth through us, and the universe expands through God’s own loving expansion (and ours). The entire cosmos is a finely tuned and orchestrated symphonic work of genius in which nothing is off-key or discordant. This is the “music of the spheres,” which spiritual seekers have sometimes heard on their journeys beyond the individual egoic self.

From this perspective, all is well, and if I accept whatever presents itself in my life moment to moment, with love in my heart, I tap into a deeper awareness and clearer vision which guides me through my life without suffering or judgment (of self or others). No mistakes have been made. The Divine is an all-encompassing energy that moves the universe beyond time and space or human questioning. What exists in your life and mine, and in the world’s, exists for a reason that is not necessarily logical or even intuitive. It just is. This is absolute Being, of which we are an inseparable part. Thus, everything we do arises from the evolutionary potential of the universe. We live and die, we grow and evolve, because we are Being itself, eternally expanding into new levels of beingness.

Sound wacky? Abstract? A little frightening? Only on the surface. At the deepest level, beyond whatever you or I may feel/think individually, this is our collective global direction now at this key time. In the midst of all the extremes of our lives, we are coming into full conscious awareness of exactly who we are and why we are here. We are God, living out infinite variations of the love that created the universe. The more clearly I see that, the more I can relax and just live my life, one perfect moment at a time. So can you.