A seed of self-blessing
flowering again from within
In "St. Francis and the Sow," Galway Kinnell writes, "to reteach a thing its loveliness … until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing."
What does it mean to reteach a thing its loveliness?
To reteach sounds as though somewhere, somehow along the way, we forget our loveliness and must be taught how to come into the bosom of our blossom again.
But the bud is wise in knowing, for she knows her loveliness. She is ready to bloom as she anticipates spring, a new season. She is aware her time in the underground, in the cool dampness of the earth, has served her well, and she is ready to begin again.
In the sacred pause before she transitions and sprouts, she rests in the silence of her core and soaks in the stillness of the soil.
The bud is precious and mustn't be forgotten. She must be watered and tended to with attention and tender loving care. She is vulnerable and exposed to harsher elements and weather unpredictable. To a sun that can burn so hot it roasts the tender tips of her petals.
As she blooms, as her petals birth, unfurl, and bend, exposing and offering her naked self to the world, lovelier than imagined, she needs to be adorned, respected, and shown off. Her bouquet is passionate, her hips robust, her handles fragrant, and her stem pronounced.
Her roots grow deeper into the darkness into the self-assured soil of the ground as she lengthens, stretches, and expands, maturing and blushing, extending from the very seed from which she was born.
She is growing, glowing, subtle, and simple. She withstands the spring's sudden rainfall, wind, and storms and stands tall in truth, in her allure, bright and becoming. She has been waiting for this moment, the moment of her one precious life.
And then, as life may, as all things must pass, the late summer's passion wilts the softness of her skin. One by one, her petals dry, curl, and gently fall to the ground, attractive fertilizer for the thirsty dirt to be soaked, restored, and renewed.
As so it is, she understands this now, and she doesn't resist, grip, or struggle. This is the cycle of seasons. This is the cycle of life.
Petal by petal, leaf by leaf, she falls back to the earth to the place where it all began. To the place where it all ends and return home to the dark blanket of her being.
To the place of wisdom, serenity, and stability. To the place of rest and hibernation in the shelter of her sheath and replenish before she is ready to bloom and begin again.
It is where she finds her strength in the red dirt of her soul. In the night of her shadow and the depths of her sorrow. She has lived and continues to live a life of loveliness and loss and recognizes the value of cycles, the meaning of change, the significance of endings, and the worth of beginning.
She has retaught herself what it is to retell in beauty, dignity, and grace the tender touch of the eternal, exquisite seed until it flowers again from within, a seed of self-blessing.
Written on a Sunday in Intuitive Writing for Women.
Writing Prompt
What does it mean to you to reteach a thing its loveliness?
Or
Begin with these lines:
“She has been waiting for this moment, the moment of her one precious life.”
“It is where she finds her strength in the red dirt of her soul.”
Grab a pen and paper or your favorite journal. Set your timer. Write for 15 minutes, pen never leaving the page. See what words flow.
Comment if you try. I would love to hear about your journey and experience with intuitive flow writing!