Writing my way through the A-to-Z blogging challenge, I’ve tasked myself with throwing open the cabinet of curiosities and wondrous things I call my brain and leading you on a tour of what actually resides in there – all through the lens of unusual, obscure, or simply charming-to-me words.
K is for…
knosp – unopened bud of a flower; ornament shaped like a bud
I have always unabashedly loved Spring. I know many people feel that way – I think we’re wired to inherently understand the pull of the seasons and reflect that in our own energy fields. Spring awakens in me great bursts of creativity, intense brainstorming of ideas, and a deep recognition of the endless pool of possibilities that life promises.
Spring has always been about abundance to me. Of course abundance is reflected in all seasons, simply differently, and yet I literally bliss out when I see the budding of trees and bushes, the starting of flowers. It’s as though every nerve of delight in body is triggered.
But curiously this year, although all the above is still absolutely true, I’m also contemplating a different perspective as well. Rather than focusing on the abundance of buds, what does it mean to micro my view to a single bud? What does it mean to go from tight and unopened, to opening, to blossoming, to spent?
Last night I had an incredible dream in which I stood in a field which blossomed into a group of people. Not people I know personally, but each a teacher, a wisdom-keeper, a philosopher, and each said something to me, offered something to me to consider. It was, as you might expect profound, and upon waking I wrote down as much as I could remember. And while that is perhaps a topic for another time, the idea of a number of people offering their wisdom and perspective feels like a perfect thing to explore today as I riff about buds.
I suspect that when on said topic of buds many people think about Anais Nin’s well-know quote:
“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
A beautiful and powerful sentiment of course, and certainly we all relate to it because that’s precisely how life works. You can’t stop a bud from eventually bursting forth unless it dies. It is the natural order of things.
But I’m also thinking about the truth that a stem produces a bud that flowers only once and once only. A single bud does not blossom and then turn back into its original bud form again. It is a one-time thing. It’s a singular thing. We may see a branch full of buds, but each one is individual. Each one matters. Each one is brilliant being.
I’ve always found the thinking of Alan Watts profound, and what he says here I believe is apropos to this micro/macro thinking I’m dancing with:
“We do not ‘come into’ this world; we come out of it, as leaves from a tree. As the ocean ‘waves,’ the universe ‘peoples.’ Every individual is an expression of the whole of nature, a unique action of the total universe.”
This is such a beautiful expression, and it also supports my understanding of what I term unity consciousness. We are unique expressions, and we are all one.
Without denying that buds are buds, if we focus on an individual bud, I love considering what Amy Kessler said:
“The truth of who you are does not go away – it waits for you while you pretend you don’t hear it. It’s patient. Quiet until given permission to emerge. Ready when you are.”
This is the patience of nature, the patience of life. So often we live lives filled with distractions and attempts to bend ourselves into pretzel shapes meant to conform, meant to please. But who we are truly is waiting for us to recognize, to accept, to celebrate. If we don’t, it’s as though our bud dies, never to blossom.
I’m also reminded of something else Anais Nin said that feels equally important, equally powerful:
” We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grows sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us to the present. We are made of layers, cells, constellations.”
Isn’t that true? We are always, always, always works in progress. Always part strength, part fragility, part brilliance, part fool; but always whether consciously or not, compelled to heed the call that requires us to unfold, unfold, unfold.
I love thinking of us all as buds on a tree, sharing space and time in this continuum, offering each other our companionship, our beauty, our willingness to witness. And I love knowing we’re also each precious in our own right, offering our own unique perfume.
I always smile when I see this piece, it reminds me of Spring and since it has a bud I thought I’d share it today. The base is what I love most – it’s a seed pod of a variety I’m not familiar with. But it looks like its covered in roots, and so I keep it on one of my altars and use it for grounding work.
Knosp, an unopened bud, is filled with potential, with possibility, with form desiring being. What potential, possibility, beingness are you holding? Do you find buds as exciting as I do? Have dreams about Wisdom Councils offering guidance and support? Know what kind of seed pod my mystery pod is? Do tell – you know I love to hear.