"We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn."
                                                                        Walden by Henry David Thoreau

It seems that years, like chapters in books, come forward with a theme - a thesis statement, if you will - and when reflecting upon the events with the clarity of hindsight one can see that the learning has been imparted with the precision of a well thought out syllabus.  One year the theme was "Be Bold."  This was a time of busting out of cardboard boxes that felt like fortresses.  There were all kinds of magnificent ideas and inspired leaping, "kowabunga style," into some marvelous new circumstances. 

The next was "Marinate."  Let me say without hesitation that marinating is not fun.  First you get pounded with a spikey meat mallet to mangle your structure and soften you up so you can be filled (involuntarily) with experiences that change your flavor and texture.  Once you've been marinated, you are not at all like you once were.

As I look back over those very different stages, it reminded me of planting.  Be bold meant "select your seeds".  It asked the question, "what do you hope to harvest one day?"  What was growing in our gardens at that time wasn't really sustaining us and it was time to consider a new crop.  There is a sense of rising hope and optimism at a time of planting.

Then the seeds are plunged into the darkness of the dirt.  First, they are disoriented.  "How did I get here?" they wonder.  After awhile they feel abandoned and forsaken.  Poor little seeds.  They have no idea what is happening.  All they know is darkness and loneliness in their holes.  They don't know what they did to deserve this isolation.  I imagine they might even be a little pissed off at whoever put them there.

But if they are ever to sprout, to fulfill their true and hidden purpose, they have to have faith that light exists beyond their cold, dark hole.  They have to keep reaching for it even thought they can't see it.  They have to sense the warming of the earth around them, and they have to keep stretching, stretching, stretching, until finally a part of them pops through the surface.

There it is.

Thank goodness.

Last night my friend and I were talking about our spots in the dirt.  Each of us for very different reasons are weary of the darkness and the cold.  But, we also know that there is warmth and light out there and we are reaching with all of our strength to get to it.  We know it's worth it.  This year, we declared is "undefined", in other words, without the restriction of definition.

Good day, sunshine.

WS

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