A blend of old and new offerings around and about that I've been dipping into this week, plus an announcement. Enjoy!
(Please note: Actions taken from hyperlinks on this blog may yield commissions for me.)
Oh, yes (the announcement!): I've got a Good News-letter! Each week I'll send you an awesome original photo, something cool to read/watch/listen to, and a quote to ponder. May I visit your inbox? Sign up here.
Give: Seeking a creative (and free) way to love on your significant other for Valentine's? Good Morning, Love is the co-brainchild of Winnie Kao (of the Your Turn Challenge).
Learn: Pee when you need too. (At least, that's my takeaway from Jill's much more eloquent post on self-compassion.)
Watch: A brand-spankin' new Simon's Cat, called "Butterflies."
Listen: On Being's Krista Tippett talks with poet Mary Oliver.
Eat: My #newrecipeaweek (that was so, so yummy): Grilled Aged Cheddar Cheese Sandwich with Pistachio-Sage Pesto.
Sing-a-long: I met Isaac Hayden in Nashville last week. Stunning voice. Mad guitar skills. Find him and his debut album here. And give one of my favs a listen:
Read: The Summer of Letting Go, by Gae Polisner.
Insight: From Seven Thousand Ways to Listen, by Mark Nepo.
In very real ways, we're drawn to what we need to learn. Often, it waits like a quiet blessing that we can easily ignore or just as easily open ourselves to, like that small wildflower. But for the soul to blossom, we must accept our deeper, humbler destiny. For the wildflower doesn't become rich or famous for blossoming. It doesn't live forever or become the greatest flower of all time. The wildflower's reward for trusting what it senses but doesn't yet know is to become what it was born to be — a flower whose inevitable place is realized in a small moment of Oneness, as it joins with elements that were here before it came alive and which will live on once it dies. This is the reward for every seed growing in the dark with no sense of what it will become. As a soul on Earth, this is all we can hope for, to feel the light and being of all time course through our veins while we blossom.