A Year of Gifts
Springtime brings us powerful reminders of the beauty of new beginnings.
Flower bulbs sleep through the brutal cold of winter, blanketed by layers of soil and snow, their beauty and fragrance hidden from the world. But inevitably, there is a spark, an awakening of sorts. First, only the tiniest of shoots are visible, peaking through the topsoil, a mere hint of what's to come.
Sunshine and fresh air welcome the new growth. If you were to sit quietly on the bright green grass and stare intently at the miniature shoot, it would appear as though nothing is happening. But rest assured, growth is occurring, even when it isn't evident to the naked eye. Walk away, go about this business of life, and give the flower time to mature. Time to absorb nutrients from the soil, from the rain, and from the sun. Return another day. You will be rewarded for your patience.
Chances are the little shoot has gone through a miraculous transformation while you weren't looking. Now there are leaves, unfurled and reaching for the sky. Perhaps there is a tight new bud, still hiding its most beautiful colors, not yet ready to open up and share its most vibrant part. But you know it won't take much longer. Again, you need to give it just a bit more time.
And suddenly, there is a riot of color. Fragile petals quiver in the breeze; gorgeous reds or purples or yellows stand out in stark contrast to deep green foliage. There is a freshness to the very air around you.
We can't take the beauty of the blooms for granted. Part of the magic of their splendor is in their fleeting nature. Pay attention and enjoy the grandeur while it lasts.
Is this process really any different from anything new we decide to pursue or create?
Initially, something starts out as nothing more than a seed of an idea, deep in our brains or in our hearts. Then there is that spark, that inkling or intuition or whatever you want to call it, that starts giving the idea energy. The energy will lead to exploration and consideration. While nothing yet is visible on the surface, the hard work has begun, deep down, away from prying eyes.
Eventually, there may be just a tiny bit of visible progress, like the little shoot poking out of the ground.
A songwriter has strung a few introductory notes together, or an artist has laid the first brush stroke on a white canvas. But then perhaps progress stalls. More materials are needed, more knowledge must be gathered, or more experiences gained. She is working hard on her idea, but to the casual observer, nothing much is happening yet. The observer may lose interest and walk away, leaving her to her silent vigil to bring her idea to life.
Like the flowers of springtime, perhaps some leaves have started to unfurl on her idea. But she hasn't yet reached her highest aspirations. She needs to keep working, keep feeding, keep tweaking her work. Some days it will feel pointless, as if the end will never be reached. But as long as she keeps going and never, ever quits, that tight little bud will form. She's nearly made it. She knows the prize, the beautiful thing she's worked so hard to accomplish, is inside that little bud. She may be tempted to rush things, to pry open the bud, and reach the finish line faster. But rushing things before they are ready can kill the dream. The work has to be done, and the time has to pass before she can reap the beauty.
And then, one day, it blossoms. She set out to accomplish something new, and through tenacity, hard work, and persistence, the day finally arrives for her to enjoy the things she's worked so hard to accomplish. And for the rest of the world to enjoy it, too.
Some will say her success is mere luck. They'll fail to understand all the blood, sweat, and tears that she poured into her dream. But she knows. She will know exactly what it took to accomplish her goal, and it feels that much more special when she reaches the top of her mountain because she knows what all it took to get there.
Look around, and you'll see this playing out everywhere around you in the springtime. Birds are gathering tiny bits of string and vegetation, fashioning them into nests to house their babies. Children, grown now, are walking across stages, draped in gowns and sporting mortarboards, traversing the path from their high school or college days to whatever it is that they've chosen to pursue next in their own lives. They started on this path, barely able to hold a pencil to write their names. Now, they can operate handheld devices that give them the ability to reach into the deepest corners of our globe with only a few taps of a screen. They’ve grown, learned and somehow morphed into young adults.
Like the miracle of the blossoming of a flower, another wave of young adults will flow out into the world, intent on improving every possible part of the earth we live on. It's likely we didn't notice their growth every day. It might have been too minuscule to see, but it was there nonetheless, building and shaping them into the people they are today: ready…or nearly ready…to take on the world.
What idea has been niggling at you, deep in your brain or your heart? Springtime is the perfect time to nurture that idea and start doing what needs to be done to bring it to fruition. What thing of beauty will you coax out of your brain and into the world? The possibilities are endless. The world needs you and the vision you bring to it.
And just like the perennial flower bud, the cycle can repeat itself. This year's spring blossoms will fade and fall away. But it isn't death. It is merely an opportunity to rest, begin to gather strength, and start all over again on the path of growth.
Celebrate the beauty of spring flowers, the achievements of our children, and the fruition of your own dreams. Enjoy the freshness, the parties, the successes, and then let it all begin again. And never, ever quit just before the bud opens.
Always cheering you on, Kim
Hello everyone and welcome to my blog! My name is Kimberly Diede and I'm a self-published fiction author and family girl. When time permits, I am happiest with a great cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. I love to alternate between reading and writing. Winters here can be long, dark and cold. Summers are unpredictable, lovely and always too short. Every season of the year, as in every season of life, is a gift. Let's celebrate it together!