Keep your face to the sun and you cannot see the shadow. That’s what the sunflowers do.
I don’t think there’s anything on this planet that trumpets life more than the sunflower. For me that’s because of the reason for its name. Not because it looks like the sun but because it follows the sun. During the course of the day, the head tracks the journey of the sun across the sky. A satellite dish for sunshine. Wherever light is, no matter how weak, these flowers will find it. And that’s such an admirable thing. And such a lesson in life.
they won’t be here for long
they still choose to live
their brightest lives
We currently have a big bunch of sunflowers in residence on our coffee table, and they are exquisitely glorious. Like sunshine, poured into a glass vase, smack dab in the middle of our living room. September sunflowers. Really, sometimes all one can do is whisper a quick “thank you” to God.
I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers the fear.
Allied troops prepare to storm the beaches of Normandy on D-Day, 74 years ago today.
My dad, who was one of those troops so many years ago, once told me that only fools are never afraid. Being afraid doesn’t make you a coward, he told me. Brave people learn to go ahead despite being terrified.
This applies to all of us, he made clear at the time, and now I can see what he meant…me dealing with trauma therapy, my friends and family who have faced cancer, my friend who was suddenly widowed when her husband died of influenza several years ago…countless painful and scary situations, that so many of us from somewhere, deep down inside, find the wherewithal to face and overcome. I think that we are, all of us, braver than we realize.
Courage is not simply having the strength to go on; it is going on when you don’t have the strength.
It’s Memorial Day here in the United States today, and the weekend wouldn’t seem complete if I didn’t post some kind of tribute to my dad, Sgt. Leonard Henry Resch. He fought from Omaha (“Bloody Omaha”) Beach in Normandy to Leipzig in Germany, seeing action in the Battle of the Bulge, liberating a concentration camp and oh, yes, helping liberate a continent along the way.
He never made a big deal about any of it, but he has always been my hero, he always will be, and darn it, I just wish I had told him more often while he was still here.
(PS English friends—he was stationed in Selsey before D-Day, if any of you know it? A small village on the southern coast.)
Right now I’m featuring what you might call a Festival of Crabapple Blossoms over on my (relatively) new photography blog, Gingerfancy Photography! Please come on over and join me at gingerfancyphotography.blog 🙂
I have proof, incontrovertible photographic evidence, that spring has finally arrived in our backyard:
There are buds on our lilac bushes….Happy May, everyone!
You find peace not by rearranging the circumstances of your life, but by realizing who you are at the deepest level.
I’ve begun trauma therapy after living with PTSD for thirty years, and I’m finding it, well, traumatic. Please God, may all of this pain lead me to the peace Merton describes.