On flowers, endings, and the quiet intelligence of things changing form.
Five Milligrams of a Flower
I spent last weekend extracting nectar from the Jade Vine flowers in my garden. These wild little turquoise beings, dangling in clusters, almost too strange and exquisite to look real.
So much flower. So much color, texture, life force, time. And after all of the squeezing, extracting, dripping and waiting, I was left with about 5mg. Five tiny milligrams of concentrated flower.
All of that outward beauty distilled down into this almost invisible amount. The blossom no longer a blossom, but not gone either. Just changed – concentrated – reconfigured into another form.
I’ve been consuming little drops of it now, waiting curiously for the wisdom of the flowers to speak to me.
The other day I had a headache and took a few drops. Not long after, the headache had disappeared. Flower magic, timing, coincidence, some mysterious concoction of all of it… who knows. I’m less interested in knowing exactly why and more interested in listening.
What does a flower know that I don’t?
What information lives inside something that knows how to push itself from darkness into full bloom, pollinate the world with its existence, and then soften, wilt and return itself back to the earth without argument?
I have been spending much time observing nature, and death has been one of my most beautiful teachers.
The Beauty of Death
Death. Most creatures are naturally wired to avoid it, fear it, hide it.
Yet once some time is given to contemplate, reflect and observe the nature of death, there can be seen a vast knowledge available holding an incredibly soft beauty.
Not the kind of beauty taught in mainstream media, the kind of beauty taught by mama Nature. The real deal.
Mother Nature teaches that the Universe wastes nothing. No particle of energy goes unused. All parts of all expressions are decomposed, digested, recycled and recreated.
I’ve been watching so many flowers die.
My initial reaction, sprouting from the seeds of my conditioning about death, was sadness. But after spending some time watching the vibrant blossoms die, I started to see the teaching.
After Full Bloom
The life and beauty of a full power blossom that outwardly expresses, pollinates reality with its existence. Its very existence sheds an imprint upon this creative masterpiece.
After full bloom, outward expression ceases and energy begins to draw inward, feeding back into the source, to recalibrate all information learned through experience, before recreation.
There is something so beautiful about a flower never questioning this.
It doesn’t cling to its petals because they were beautiful. It doesn’t decide that remaining in full bloom forever would prove it had lived well. It gives itself completely to the expression of blooming, and then it gives itself completely to what comes next.
Maybe we are not so different.
The Genius Universal Recycling Program
The beautiful Death of the cycles of our lives, relationships, projects, lovers, phases, desires can be viewed the same. So much beauty expressing for the time of the blossom.
And when the blossom has lived its full purpose, energies redirect inward, back to source, where they can once again be digested, re-sculpted, and re-expressed.
Things die in this realm, but with a softer focus the genius universal recycling program may be realized.
Maybe this is one of the places we struggle most. We want to keep the blossom because we loved the blossom. We confuse letting something change form with losing everything it contained. But the flower does not disappear when the petals fall.
Something else has already been pollinated, something has already been fed, and something has already received it.
What Is Needing to Die?
What is needing to die off in your experience? It’s so hard to let things die when we see death as an ending, a loss, or something gone wrong, rather than another movement of energy changing shape.
But if it can be remembered that the blossom has served its full purpose, that the universe wastes no energy, and that all of the beautiful intelligent force that concentrated to create this particular expression is not lost, just drawing into source and will be cycling back new, improved, learned, evolved, to express new beauty- perhaps an ending does not ask us to erase what was.
Perhaps it asks us to let it be digested.
To let the relationship, the phase, the project, the version of ourselves, the dream that once fit so perfectly, return its information back into the soil of us.
Nothing is Wasted
And now I have these tiny drops of Jade Vine.
A flower that was once hanging from a vine, outwardly expressing itself in full power blossom, now existing in another form entirely.
I’m taking the drops and waiting, curiously, for the wisdom of the flowers to speak, and who knows- maybe this is already some of it.
The blossom opens, expresses, pollinates, wilts, falls, decomposes – becomes something else. Something drinks it in. Something learns from it. Something grows.
And perhaps the cycles of our lives are doing the same. Drawing inward. Back to source. Digesting. Re-sculpting. Recreating. Nothing wasted.
Just life, continuously changing form.
I love you,
Meghan xx