Right now, I am planted in a hotel room in Washington, Indiana. It is late. I am tired. This has been one of the most challenging weekends in my life. Nevertheless, as I write, I feel the "bloom" starting within--for I am doing that which I so truly love--I am writing.
Bloom where you are planted... Words I heard, today, as part of a simple, yet lovely, eulogy given for my dear sister-in-law, who we lost, last week, so very prematurely. Yet, those words (Bloom where you are planted) both comforted and inspired me this morning.
No, this hotel room is not barren terrain. Even so, I compare this moment to one where a breathtaking flower proudly emerges from a rocky crevice high atop a cold mountain top. Still somewhat sleep-deprived, grieving, feeling the rug was pulled out from under me--but, here I am--I'm writing...which means that, despite it all, I am getting my "bloom" on.
Tomorrow, I'll be planted (at least for a good seven to eight hours) in a car as I ride back home. Despite the long car ride, this "flower" can still bloom by enjoying mindful time in conversation with Mark, healing my spirit through moments of stillness or simply allowing myself time to merely rest while en route to Bowling Green.
Where are you planted in this moment? And, what enables your bloom to come forth?
Joy and peace. T.
