What’s Up Wednesday, June 6th, 2012

Every year, it amazes me. The teeny tiny seed, turning into at-first teeny tiny plants, and then growing, growing, growing and bearing fruit. I’m sure I could wax philosophical all day about all the wonders of creation, but I’ll leave my waxing to just a single thought today, and just enjoy the photos as well – of beets, quinoa, peas, and green beans.

There is so much potential inside a single small seed. The first poem (well, and I guess, at this point, ONLY) of mine that was published was written when I was about 8 years old, and was in Wee Wisdom magazine (anyone remember that?). The title of the poem? “A Little Seed”.

A Little Seed can grow, they say,

if you care for it,

each and every day.

It also works with people, too –

Friends and family – just like you.

*Thank you, thank you very much. Yes, I am a very talented poet. Indeed.

But seriously, it was a thrill for this young would-be writer to have a “Published Work”. So official! So wonderful! Do you recall, dear reader, the scene from the Steve Martin classic, ‘The Jerk’, where his character, Navin Johnson, receives his new phone book, and says, “It is this kind of spontaneous publicity that MAKES people,” ? (Suuuure you do!)

But that is what * I* thought. I was so excited!

I always kind of thought I’d make my living writing. I did make *some* money from it, for awhile, and that was very fun and neat. But as kids came, it was harder to have the quiet time I needed to get to the writing. I loved those little seeds too much to leave them very often. At the time, I questioned, was this giving up? Was this the right thing? Should I press on and make this dream happen?

I don’t feel like I’m missing out, in any way, but not making a living full-time writing. I feel like throughout the seasons of life, we are provided with, perhaps guided to, different outlets that will give us a way to help ourselves, our families, and the world. I hope that you find joy, encouragement, and humor on this blog. That is what it brings to me. It also gives me a simple way to write, while nurturing my seeds (my actual seeds) and my Hub’band and family, my other little seeds. I write about a lot of crunchy stuff, but I hope you get a sense of my underlying philosophy at times. In this season, my family and my garden, provide the blank page on which to write. And what a wonderful story we’re coming up with.

Even while freelancing, I had a sense of the fleetingness of it all (Fleetingness? Its not coming up in spellcheck, but seriously? Is that a word? Yeah, I’m a writer. I make those UP.). You’d get a story done, and the it was on the next. Impermanent. For me, not enough reward to keep going.

Now, as a gardener, I keep going, even though one season makes my garden grow, and the next kills all my plants. But, somehow, it is natural, expected. Nature doesn’t care about fame (like I used to, when local people would acknowledge and admire my writing work). Nature is wise. We learn from nature, and we learn about the Creator of nature. And we have to just stand back and feel very blessed.

Okay, so I thought this would be a short armchair philosophy session, and I feel like I’m still not quite getting at what I mean here! I think Fr. Gerard Manley Hopkins expresses it better as a poet than I ever could. I will let him end this post for me. Thanks, Father.

God’s Grandeur (Poems, 1918)

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
  It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
  It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;         5
  And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
  And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil

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Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
  There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;         10
And though the last lights off the black West went
  Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
  World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings

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