Faded flowers

 

Wabi-sabi nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.

A sense of melancholia also.  We come to the end and still take joy in the beauty of bird song, the plant buds as they appear in the dark soil in Spring. We take pleasure in the small duties of life.  The making of coffee, toast for the dog this morning as Lucy stands by the counter waiting for the toaster to pop her slice.  She is wobbly on her legs but still breaks into a run even though her legs will occasionally give way.  Soon a decision must be made for her but for the moment she is happy with her life, as long as it is predictable.

Why this thinking, well they had a Wabi-sabi programme this morning when I woke up, missed most of it but John Gray's blog on churchyards made me think.

Living next to a graveyard.  It doesn't hurt of course and not frightening at all. At the moment the one next door is full of flowers for Mother's Day, the dead are always remembered, the graves tended and most of the inmates have reached a good old age.

Except for the lad who took his own life.  His brother was sitting by him yesterday writing something in a notebook, he hides behind the bamboo grass but I notice him as I pass.  This lad that has gone is so loved, his grave is filled with flowers as close relatives tend it each week.

Now then, is how it starts, grief meets the challenge of love and love conquerors, he lives in their hearts for evermore.

A sad blog perhaps for Sunday but also one of hope as spring dawns, we should always look forward, think less of ourselves but more of others.