Lucky Rock

You know that feeling when you’re so happy and creatively aligned, you could lay back with your thoughts and bask in the light of them for the rest of the day? Or what about the sort of uncomfortable stuff? The parts you’ve learned to breathe through, and laugh or love away together, as coworkers perhaps, lovers in a smoothie cafe, or family members staying strong, side by side?

There are many reasons to feel lucky, especially now as our silk-green sproutlings emerge and regrow. We can take on our own seasons, us human and animal beings, but there is a certain magic when our roots outgrow our skin, and the natural sunshine unfurls awake our own leafy beginnings.

Dispersing deeper into the presence of what this delicate blossoming means, I’m outside again. Pen to paper, ever-warming sun to cheeks, my exterior has changed, but so too has my cellular understanding within. Am I big enough to hold this love that has grown inside? A thick cotton cloud coats the sun, only for a moment, to relieve my newly kissed, gently aglow skin, and to help answer the question. Cooled mind and a breeze that slightly rattles, my luck is tested, bent uncertain in the shade, but proven a new way, as my delicate stalk re-stabilizes upright and draws nutrients from its pure-light core.

What if size didn’t matter so much at all? What if strength of heart was the key, to hold light in a shadowy moment, discover solution in a creative way, and remember always that the sky-made sun——the one that keeps us alive——is always just a couple breaths or a minuscule green-lit distance away?

So newly born and close to the earth, these sproutlings of hope could easily be squashed by a careless hand, but because they grow in groves, inside and out, the hope doesn’t grow alone——it grows aplenty in a garden and abundant among trees, in a woodsy place. Up above, every branch of wisdom before weaves trails and possibilities in the sky, and close to the heart, precious within, the brilliant green blossoms its own vibrant energy. Luck becomes gratitude, discomfort becomes learning, and a million tingling cells excited by their own higher connected energy become one giant picture of earth vastly changing, or one certainly alive being in love with the magic of life.

This rock can be honored in many ways——count your blessings, put together a gratitude list, or simply bask in the sun——but the beauty I prefer is so much more than words shared in a list or held dearly in thought. It’s about the path itself. The magnitude of it, with and beyond me. God, how lucky am I to be a part of all these positive changes, and a creative being so inspired and aligned? How beautiful to be able to sit back and touch all the various threads, where the universe web intersects and the different lives make poetry. How powerful to feel my own magic, no matter how seemingly humble and small, and watch as my own ripples make waves: a droplet in the sea, a melody caught on camera, or a subtle emotion listened to and cared for.

The likes, followers, and acceptance letters are not important here. The luck is in the green. Every shade——the experienced and new. Ask me what’s important now, and most likely, I’ll tell you a similar thing when I’m wrinkled-bark old, hair long and grey:

My freedom, nature, and my cat.

My dad, my pen, and my creativity.

My home, stability, and love.

And the beauty and magic that is in everything.