September 20, 2015
(If we live with an open and grateful attitude, every day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during the year I turned 70.)
Last month I enjoyed an abundance of beautiful flowers in pots on my back porch. Today I harvested seeds for next year so I can enjoy them again. When I look at the seeds, I cannot see, feel, taste, hear or smell what they will become. It is amazing that a seemingly insignificant tiny thing, when planted and nourished, will become a vibrant living thing. Each seed waits for me to do something before it becomes a flower. After I harvest, I must plant and nurture in order for them to grow.
The bonus is that year after year, even though new flowers will bloom and die, in their death, they provide more seeds for the future. Seeds propel life forever.
A seed, dropped into the ground, springs into activity, and in the act of living produces a hundred more seeds, life, by living, multiplies itself. It is forever Becoming More, it must do so, if it continues to be at all.” ~
This is true in other areas of life too. I harvest seeds of knowledge, lessons and experiences. I nurture these seeds in my mind, heart, memories and actions. Many people have planted seeds in my life. For example, my parents planted seeds of empathy in me when I was a child. Most likely, I plant seeds in others through our interactions and connections. The beauty is that the seeds become scattered and multiply.
When I was teaching in the classroom, I tried to plant in my students—seeds for love of learning, love of nature, self-esteem, pride in accomplishment, civility, self-discipline, responsibility. Interwoven in literature lessons, an underlying current involved empathy. When we read Beowulf (a rescripted version for 7th graders), students had to write from the point-of-view of monster Grendel’s mother. When we read The Cay, students did role-playing, first as the boy Phillip, blind and bigoted, trying to learn to weave a mat and then as Timothy, an uneducated but wise black man trying to prepare the young boy for independence after the old man died. Sometimes in the classroom, I made myself vulnerable to 12-year-olds when I thought it would help them grow in understanding.
My gift today is a seed harvest.
You can find links to my other posts on this project here: