Like Reed in Winter’s Wind

reed in winter wind

photo by JAMILA

On a walk today in unseasonably warm and dewy weather, I carefully negotiated the wetness and the mud with my soft, not-water-proof boots. The melted openings on the pond announced themselves boldly with wind-rushed waves, choppy and riveted gashes—like wounds—amongst slick and still ice. I admired their contrast. They spoke to me, though of what, I did not quite know. So did the reeds—stalwart pillars, Nature’s obelisks in the ancient civilization of This Pond.

Yield like the Reed in Winter’s Wind and thou shalt not break

So says, in other words, a Chinese proverb. So I said today as I moved through space and time filled with questions and uncertainty. Unrest lurked in my concern for the spats of mud, though I wasn’t truly afraid of getting wet… or dirty. Really, I was sensing the open wounds throughout my energy body in need of attention, the ones that will take some time and commitment. The ones I have worked on for years, though like that pond, they continually thaw and freeze through seasons of change, and I seem to make the most progress when I become the Reed.

Bending, adapting, yielding, meeting each individual moment for what it is, and for all that there is, and all there must be. For this moment.

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