Like the hollow nothingness within the seed of a tree, which contains the potential of the entire tree, the experience of nothingness in the unmanifest field has within it the lively potential of everything in creation. (Maharishi Mahesh Yogi)

Or maybe this one is more appropriate for the oak picture:

This wildflower in the forest near the “shack” intrigued me for the same reason.  The beauty is already there inside, inherent.  The potential was there at its very creation.  There is nothing this flower needs to do but allow itself to open.

Does that not make you want to do a crazy-person giggle/clap/dance thing?  No?  That is good.  Someone should maintain sanity. 

“Wake Up”

It is a whisper, barely perceptible across this chasm of sleep.

“Wake up, Mama.”

“Wake up, Mama!”

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

 Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke.

“Mama…”

A tickle, her breath on my ear, subtly inviting consciousness.

“Mama! Mama! Wake Up!”

Now coming in forced and throaty whispers, too annoying to ignore.

“Wake up, Mama!”

A whining. A pleading.

More poking.

Reluctantly, I draw a deep breath.

And another.

She tries to be patient; she can taste her victory, but she cannot hold in one last

“MAMA!”

I force my eyelids open.

“I’m up… I’m up!”

I manage. And reaching out to touch her cheek,

“I’m awake!”

You’ve experienced this, right?  This insanely-annoying-but-somehow-heartbreakingly-sweet moment?  Your child, beside your bed, lit softly by the morning light, pleading with you to wake up.  Sometimes it’s because she wants breakfast.  Sometimes it’s because she wants to cuddle.  Sometimes it’s because school starts in ten minutes oh-my-god-we’re-going-to-be-late-again-where’s-my-bra-did-you-brush-your-teeth?

There is another way that my children are begging, pleading, “Wake Up, Mama!”  It’s been nagging at me, poke-poke-poking me for some time now.  Poet Drew Dellinger articulated it beautifully, and I’ve included an excerpt at the end of this post.  What did you do when… ? 

It gets to me, especially, because I don’t feel like I have a straight answer for them.  Time rushes past, and the small steps I make to try to answer their challenge seem insignificant…  not enough.  I know that “every little bit helps,” and I believe strongly in the strength in numbers, connection, collective, ripple effect and etc. etc.  But what I really mean by “not enough,” is personal.  I’m not doing enough.  Not being enough.  There is more in me to give.  There are solutions, insights, pieces that might, when put together, make sense.  There is more in us–each of us–more ingenuity, creativity, intelligence, wisdom…  Much, much more important, awesome, juicy, genius, kick-ass stuff that I think we have left untapped.  Why?  Stop it!  Tap it already!  (I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY!  Are you getting it, yet?)

it’s 3:23 in the morning
and I’m awake
because my great great grandchildren
won’t let me sleep
my great great grandchildren
ask me in dreams
what did you do while the planet was plundered?
what did you do when the earth was unraveling?

surely you did something
when the seasons started failing?

as the mammals, reptiles, birds were all dying?

…

what did you do
once
you
knew?

(Drew Dellinger)