yes, i'm sure it could be easier
{10} interwoven: after all, birds coast when they can
Welcome to interwoven. I am so glad that you are here. interwoven is a gentle, poetic & practical adventure in deep noticing, imagination and appreciation for paid subscribers of Another Beautiful Question. Explorations of nature and a life lived in relationship.
introduction
on sustainability, ease & enough-ness
time tellings
the air is damp || the sky dark til after 8:00 am and just before 5:00 pm || grass has retired for the winter and the ground is wet underfoot
small stories
Yes, I’m sure it could be easier. How else do these new shoots appear, carpeting the side of the track as though earth were nothing? What is the energy of possible that binds itself to green, feels for ways to make itself seen without thought it could ever be denied? Of course, it’s true that a plant can sense, but can it not also sing? Is it not a dance that a seed makes when it bursts and grows? Can we not assume the presence of music? Yes, I’m sure it could be easier. I touched leaves just now and did not see a bruise. My fingers spoke, asked what they were feeling and in reply said they felt only song.
I’ve been wondering how life could be easier. How I might allow it to be easier- perhaps this is more the question. I look around at the landscape I am blessed by, the land I witness and who witnesses me in return— I do not see striving beyond what is needed. Beyond what is enough.
There is something beautiful on deciding on enough. I once listened to a talk by a writer I admire. A person in the audience asked how much money he made, and he replied he did not seek to make more. What he had now was enough. He was neither sarcastic, offended nor condescending. Just matter of fact.
I felt his enough-ness. It found its way into my body and settled as relief.
Is enough what it means to allow things to be easy? Is enough the place we land when what we give and what we take balance themselves out? Is to allow things to be easy to trust in enough-ness?
Individual, enough. Universal, enough. Together, enough.
Is enough, allowing things to be easy(er?) is it not an absence of energy or momentum, but an absence of push?
An absence of push that becomes push further. An absence of push that becomes push harder. An absence of push when it extends beyond what is enough.
I wonder, is it a human quality to push ourselves to the point of destruction?
To push past enough-ness?
Each day, I walk a track that winds around the edges of the inlet. Yesterday, its sides were muddy brown. Today, fluorescent green. I marvel at these audacious, sparkly edges. To touch, they are so fragile- a shoot I could dismember between the edge of a nail and the surface of my thumb- and yet to dig the earth they’ve just appeared from would blunt me.
They are a magic trick.
They make me wonder of my relationship with ease.
They make me wonder at what point it’s enough.
