A Cherry Blossom Fairy Tale

A blind child

led by (her) mother

admires the cherry blossom

~A Haiku by Kikakou

 

And a fairy tale by Cindy, inspired through meditation on this haiku ...

Once upon a time there was a cherry blossom.  She was gloriously beautiful, pink, and joyful!   Cherry Blossom lived in a large tree at the edge of a famous orchard and all day long people would come by and admire the tree with its plethora of plump pink cherry blossoms but this one Cherry Blossom always felt like no one ever truly saw her.  She knew she didn't have long to live in the kind tree from which she had come, after all she was very fragile.  At the end of her life, she knew death was imminent.  She so longed to be seen, to be known deeply by someone.  

As the days passed Cherry Blossom suddenly found that all of her friends were beginning to die, one by one with just a puff of the wind they would float through the air before landing ever so gently on the ground below.  One day Cherry Blossom began to weep as she asked herself - "Is this all there is?"   To no one in particular it seemed to her but possibly to God, she said, "Please, oh please, let me be known before I die."  And time stood still.  Cherry Blossom saw a young mother and her child making their way along the path into the orchard.  For some reason, Cherry Blossom felt an instant connection as her attention was drawn to the quiet child whose soul was so compelling, she seemed to see nothing and everything at the same time.  

As the young mother and her child came closer, Cherry Blossom felt something flicker inside her.   As Mother lifted child higher and higher, closer and closer ... Mother put out her hand and gently helped Cherry Blossom to reach out and brush the cheek of the child.  The child sighed a deep sigh and the stirring within Cherry Blossom grew with great intensity until exploding within her.  Cherry Blossom finally felt seen by one who could not see.   She took one more breath and let go.  As she floated to the ground, she sang a cherry blossom song that had never before been heard and has not been heard since except by this sweet little child who carried the song within her heart.  And in her heart, Cherry Blossom lived on.

What is your deepest longing?  Of course, as I have written my fairy tale you can see that my deepest longing is always to see and be seen.  Isn't it amazing that something as simple as a few syllables in a haiku can invite such deep pondering?   I invite you to join me in pondering and writing ... After a time of centering, read the haiku and allow yourself to enter into it from the perspective of one of the characters or perhaps as an observer of the scene.  What do you see, hear, smell?  What do you feel?   Take up your pen and journal or maybe your computer and write a fairy tale.  Just begin with, "Once upon a time ..." and let it flow out of you.   If you are not finding a flow, go back and try entering the haiku from the perspective of a different character.   You may prefer to draw your fairy tale in an image, either one you draw, it can be as simple as color on a page, or one you find in a magazine that evokes the energy you find in the haiku.   Simple give yourself up to the process and you may be surprised at what you find hidden within. 

If you'd like to share your adventure, seek out a spiritual director or someone who listens deeply.  You can take the link to my website and email me if you'd like to share it with me.  I'd love to hear from you.  

Deep Deep Peace to you, dear reader.  Until next time, may you be held in the gentle embrace of the Holy.

Reflections on Silence: Coming Home

Everybody has their own way of looking at their lives 

as some kind of pilgrimage ... Mine, I suppose, is to know myself.

~Eric Clapton

Is my life a pilgrimage?   Certainly, I feel that I am coming to know myself.  At least I have begun the journey, I think.  And I am finding that is not necessarily comfortable.  As I come closer to my-self, I find things that I like and things that I don't.  I am finding a desire to change some of those things that are keeping me from being who I truly am.  And ... I am finding that is not necessarily comfortable!

For me, silence is the most important aspect of my spiritual life.  I need time to hear the whispers of my soul ... to hear the whispers of God within my soul.  I need the silence to wake up, to become aware.  Silence increases my awareness, not just of God's presence, but of all of creation and my space in the web of nature.  

Wanderer, your footsteps are
the road, and nothing more;
wanderer, there is no road,
the way is made by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
and upon glancing behind
one sees the path
that never will be trod again.
Wanderer, there is no road–
Only wakes upon the sea.

~Antonio Machado

Since I've returned home from the Monastery and a couple of working retreats, I am spending more time in meditation and reflection, wondering how my experience changed me, transforming me from the inside out into the world. I'm taking long walks on trails close to my home and I'm breathing in God's presence through the nature that I find in my world. I even signed up for Yoga just for ME.

And I continue to develop my personal rhythm in the silence:

walking ... praying ...  returning ... resting

At the monastery, it was the resting into which my soul came home to herself.  Laying down on my bed, my head resting upon the green prayer shawl in the the window of the monastery, gazing out upon the trees, I felt twinges of the familiar deep in my little girl soul.  And yet I am filled with wonder because I was such a fearful child ... driving with my parents down those dark gravel roads in Arkansas, visions of monsters lurking along the edge of the roads, filling my dreams, and making me tremble.  Looking up into the trees, dark leafy silhouettes against the night sky, reflecting a quality of light born only of moonlight and stars.  Suddenly, I remember the soft voices of my parents and the warmth of my mother's welcoming lap as I laid my head down and fell asleep to the subtle roar of the truck engine.  I am safe.  I am loved.  I am only, ever ... me. 

Listen ... this year

I have planted my feet

on this ground

and am practicing

growing up 

out of my legs

like a tree.

~ Linda Lancione Moyer, Women Prayers

drawing © cindy serio 2013, quote from "a pilgrim card"

The dark silhouette of the tree reminds me how austere the world is ...
~Austin Repath

Nature Moves in Silence

We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls.  ~Mother Teresa

The Moon over Hood Canal, Washington

the trees

pay attention to the trees 

they whisper in the wind 

i must pause and be silent 

so the trees feel safe 

they want to share 

their song with me 

before they die 

they sing of the time 

when the rain left 

only their tears 

kept them alive 

i come now and 

build an altar 

to honor their passing

At Lakeview Methodist Conference Center near Palestine, Texas.  We experienced a severe drought last year which caused the trees to suffer terribly. As a result the Conference Center has begun clearing the forest of dead and dying trees.  They say this will be good for the trees in the forest ... the circle of life, I wonder?  

Mary Oliver writes, "Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?"  Perhaps, but it is still painful ...

I was taking a walk on the nature trail at the Wesley Center in Woodworth, Louisiana during a silent retreat in the beginning of October ... the air was cool but not particularly crisp for there was the hint of rain in the air. I traversed an asphalt trail, interrupting the natural habitat of insects and turtles and beavers and so many other creatures of the wild, from one side of the property to the other. The leaves were just beginning to turn but the predominant colors to be seen were brown and green ... colors that speak to me of the cycle of life. The only exception were brilliant yellow daisies that peeked out from the brush as I walked ... a happy "yoo hoo, over here." Yet it was this fallen bit of tree that caught my eye and spoke to me in my silence. What a journey he must have been on! His twisted trunk and his gray pallor lay perfectly in the stillness ... resting from years of natural abuse ... perhaps all that is left from a mighty large oak or more likely a pine in the piney woods. How I would love to know his story and the wisdom of his life. How I would love to sit awhile and share my own story and how I sometimes feel this way on the inside. The silence is different for everyone but there is something about this tree that touched me in mine and brought me a deep sense of the calming presence of God. So ... where have you felt the deep sense of calming presence of God lately?