The Lotus
Sometimes I forget I am a lotus. I get stuck in the mud and it becomes all I can see. It is in these moments I find solace in the words of Thich Nhat Hanh “No Mud, No Lotus”. The simplicity of this truth is often enough to wake me. To remind me for the thousandth time, that the mud is not an obstacle indicative of my failure, but rather the inevitable reality of life on a planet in flux.
As I open my eyes and allow the truth of our current world to set in, I see the mud and, if I am present, I also feel the pain. While my ego urges me to run and find a distraction, something deeper whispers look, listen, and feel. When I stay, the questions that emerge sound like this…
Why is it, that most of my friends look like me?
Where have I been apathetic to the hurt in the world and in my community?
What is my responsibility from my own personal seat of privilege?
The answers are complex, and yet running from the questions does not seem to make them go away.
I found myself in the garden over the weekend musing on the above. Hands in the dirt, mind in the sky, and allowing the reality of groundlessness to just be. Eventually this led to my neighbour’s door, a house on the street that for a variety of reasons I had chosen to look away from. I stumbled through an awkward conversation, introducing myself while handing them a small potted flower. I stumbled on my words, something like “Kim from across the street, I just thought…..”, as my ego shouted loudly in my head “thought what, you can make the world a better place with a flower”? They were kind, I was weird, and I left with the realization that I was not the only lotus standing in the mud.
I know the answers to this moment are not as simple as kinship and beauty, and yet something else inside me knows this is the only place to start. This afternoon I plan to head back to the greenhouse, purchase a few small flowers, and introduce myself to more neighbours. I am certain this act will not change the world, but if I am lucky it just might change me.
