For the first time in many months – approaching a year – I was able to walk the Laughing Labyrinth for World Peace Meditation Night on a beautiful evening. Other World Peace Nights have been of Thunderstorms, or Snowstorms, or….
But, tonight, the soft, sweet fragrance of lilacs and crab apple blossoms wafted gently across the yard. The sun illuminated clouds in the west. The vultures slipped quietly onto a branch and hopped into the large hole where they are, presumably, sitting on eggs.
I extended healing energy to be accepted as could be and for the highest good to all as I marveled at the plants that I had forgotten over winter, rocks and shells that now are partially hidden by grasses and lilies, and familiar blooms. Each view brought back memories and spoke of the passage of time, healing, and, I hoped, spiritual growth. Sigrid and I talked long of that on Wednesday. That is where we knowingly are now – on a spiritual journey. We don’t have to “prove” things, be frenetic. But, we continue to desire to have purpose in this world.
Some plants delight in their memories – like Jenny Herron’s Pulmonaria and Carol Gorman’s Shasta Daisys. Others are a wonder that they even have re-appeared. The Solomon Seal from Hands in Harmony First Ave location that I rescued two years ago and which simply didn’t show last summer. Hot. Dry. Perhaps not meant to be part of the Labyrinth. But, this year, there they are. Tiny, fragile, but growing. So, maybe they symbolize a longer relation than I had thought. And, I hope, positive. Time will tell.
The blooms of the magnolia have been replaced by slim, shimmering green leaves and the buds setting for next year will be lovely to watch over summer. So dusk gave way to night. Coolness descended. Gratefully, I left the Labyrinth and came in.