June 9, 2011


A Field of Yellow Flowers, by Vincent van Gogh

You know that the flower bends when the wind wants it to, and you must become like that—that is, filled with deep trust.

Early Journals


  1. when i was much younger and thought that there was value in fighting back - that it was a measure of presence and worthiness - i did my fair share. pushing against the wind rather than bowing and returning gracefully. the battles were of no consequence. the wind didn't care or change. i can see that now. i wonder if that understanding had arrived sooner in my life if i would have been able to apply it with the same grace that i do now in my pre-mature years. steven

  2. Grace, I think, is a form of surrender, what comes as a result of what Emerson called "abandonment to the nature of things." Such surrender to what is places us, I think, in a position of safety, right in the middle of a guided path. Grace is not knowing the wind brings but trusting that it brings what is needed. - Brendan

  3. Reading your two comments, I just remembered something from my childhood. There was an old woman in our church whose back was bent completely at the waste with some spinal deterioration. She gave her testimony one Sunday in the pulpit, which began, "Let me tell you about the grace of God . . . "

    Sometimes what bends us doesn't let us straighten something back the way it was. To live that, permanently, and go on with that openness, is truly trust, and grace.

  4. Great story, Ruth, and I believe you're right. Grace is what allows us to flourish whichever way the wind bloweth. - B


"Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night."

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Go ahead, bloom recklessly!