The sun is out today, and after the cold early morning winds died down, the sense of a shift was definitely in the air. The heat and brilliance of the sun is so attention-getting after so many days of so much rain and clouds. I find myself thinking of buds as states of being. I am fascinated with the tightly held energy, the potential hidden from sight, that inner growth evident only in its time, and just the feeling of latent beauty, patient fruit. This is the lens through which the day unfolds. Even though the bud in some ways is the statement of "not yet" it is also the assurance "each in due time." The tenderness of the new growth softens everything in me. The hope of the bud is evidence of the possibilities long stored, already present even in the dark cold winter days.
Buddhist practice often references the cultivation of the seeds within us, drawing attention to the fact that without the dualistic nature, there is unity without judgment. No weed versus herb antagonism, the plant is that which it is and our purposes define us more than the plant. In fact, the plant is the seed, the root, the bud, the worm, the rain, the sun, the whole story of existence represented in one form one moment and in another form in the next.
As it is with the bud it is with us. We are not the fetus, the infant, the child, the teen, the adult, the aged, the dead, the living. We are the moment, ever changing, full of possibilities. Let the bud guide my gratitude today!