My mother had an extraordinarily green thumb; our home was always filled with plants, and almost every window sill in the house held an array of flowerpots and glass jars filled with cuttings in various stages of growth. She stayed pretty busy raising her six sons, but every spare minute she had was spent outdoors in her flower garden, where friends and strangers alike would frequently stop their cars on the street to admire her landscaping and ask for gardening advice.
LOOKING SAD
Although in recent years I have come to share her love for being out in the garden, I clearly did not inherit her green thumb. So last week it was a little sad, but not at all surprising, to notice that the small, green ivy plant on the corner of the desk in my music room was looking mighty yellow and wilted because it hadn't been watered in weeks.
So I gave it a good drink, picked off the dead leaves, then sat down to play some music. Not because I had a Sunday Circle or a concert to prepare for, but for the sheer pleasure of letting some melodies come flowing through. Less than an hour later, the ivy looked just as healthy as could be - and I was feeling much better, too. In addition to being a graphic demonstration of how strong the life force can be, it was as if the ivy was reminding me that it had been way too long since I sat down and made music for the sheer of pleasure of "watering" my soul from the inside out.
LOOKING UP
I've noticed the same thing is often true when folks come to me for spiritual direction and start talking about some situation they're struggling with. The details may vary, from issues to professional concerns or personal difficulties, but invariably, the basic problem is that they're feeling weary and wilted, because they have neglected to tend to their inner lives with some form of prayer, meditation, reflection - or in my case, artistic expression.
Having been reminded by that little houseplant myself, now I'm taking the liberty of asking you: How long has it been since your Inner Self has been "watered?" And what in the world have you (and I) been waiting for?
With joy,
Rudi
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