These are what I think of as “Black-Eyed Susans.” They grow abundantly in my front yard at this time of year. They have a way of mesmerizing me.
Abundance is one of the bigger stories that I seek to live and to invite others to live. In groups. In teams. Within self. Abundance of spirit. Abundance of wonder. Abundance of ease in connection and in learning.
Oh, how important it feels to welcome the bigger story into all of the details that we tend these days. To welcome the possibility of an abundant ease, growing as we do, in companionship and shared endeavor.
This morning thinking about abundance I’m struck by how often I think abundance means I can have it all at the same time. But maybe because there is such abundance it requires me even more to say no to good things. It requires me to grow in my own discernment.
Thanks for the reminder.
“To welcome the possibility of an abundant ease, growing as we do, in companionship and shared endeavor.”
an abundant ease … I look out the back of my house, over a field of natural grasses, the early morning sun throwing its slant light over the finials rising above the dense carpet of green, the leaves of the cottonwood at the edge of the field shimmering in the invisible breeze … and I feel the ease of a world, or, at least, this small corner of the world, that is known to me in its wildness. The patterns are familiar and reliable. I feel the companionship of the grasses, the morning light, the cottonwood. And when I step away from this, I walk into a place of shared endeavor … an effort to understand and to engage with the work of my small town.
I have been, for these past several months, doing the “work” of becoming. In this moment, I am drawn by the idea of letting the work fall for a time and step into the ease.