Grief has left me uninspired for what seems like an eternity at this point. My camera has sat unused for almost 2 months. On New Year's Day I decided that I needed to get myself together and go to the Huntington to take photos, any photos, whether I felt like it or not. I arrived mid-afternoon only to discover that my idea was quite un-original, the parking lot was packed. But it seems that the universe agreed with my plan, because as soon as I pulled my usual lot, a car was backing out--no fuss, no hassle, no circling, just pulling in, getting my gear and heading to the membership window.
I walked around, not really feeling anything. Come on, I told myself, you always find something here. You love flowers and surely you will find something. I snapped a few roses here and there but nothing really left me feeling in awe. At the Chinese garden I felt my first sparks for the New Year. I was pondering the potential of the year and me feeling like a blank slate. I counseled myself to be patient. And eventually something did catch my eye--a mosaic of leaves and silt at the end of pond. Great, I thought, here I am looking for inspiration and what catches my eye? Leaf sludge! But there is a certain amount of beauty here--and I noticed the tiny green leaf mid way on the right hand edge. See, I told myself, hope springs eternal.
Just a few seconds later, I spot buds on a plum tree. As I readied the camera, I noticed a spider web trailing between the buds. My first thought was that I could edit out the web, or search for another branch without a web, but then decided to leave it. The buds represent potential, but then I thought potential is never isolated, there is always something tethering it. The tethers are not always something that we can or need to get rid of.
Accepting that life isn't perfect and that I don't always need to try and correct it is an important lesson that I haven't quite learned yet. The bud with the spider web, I decided was a perfect metaphor for a lesson I need to work on. As I pondered a bit more on the web, I realized that it also represents connection. Connection outside of the self. The web connects the branches to each other and supports and sustains the spider that spun it. Trying to erase that connection in the pursuit of perfection is not logical. Take a look, now at the web--it anchors the potential represented in the bud to a larger picture.
And with those thoughts, I was still feeling more circumspect but I was finally outside of myself. I was able to walk around and see things that sparked some interest. A few minutes later, I spotted a Buddha Hand fruit and laughed at the sheer folly of such a fruit. I met someone from China and he told me that they are quite delicious and taste citrusy. I continued on a while longer feeling significantly better now that my soul had been nourished. Eventually I came upon the birds in the in the opening photo. Movement and chirps stopped me and looking up into the tree with the waning light of the late afternoon reminded me that I have a gift of being able to appreciate small details. This I thought is where I find my joy. This is where I need to focus. And with that I packed my camera away and headed home.
Comments