It is gray this morning. I was expecting sunshine and it has not decided to arrive quite yet. There is a post bubbling around in my brain about roots and vines, but instead of letting the words flow out of my pen, I myself have remained rooted here in my cozy bed.
I sit here pondering about the serendipity of life. Is it God’s plan? Is it random energy or merely coincidence? Or is it something I make up in my brain to make sense out of things that otherwise might make no sense at all?
I wonder about the power of three’s and even where that idea even began. And lest you think I am on a total ramble, it is indeed the occurrence of three, serendipitous appearances of roots and vines that I am pondering. I hesitate in the writing, because words are not clearly forming yet the images stand bold in my mind and beg to be placed on paper and so I choose to give it a go.
Recently while having coffee with a dear friend, she began to relay an experience of her own. My friend has been experiencing a sense of flightiness and floating away and these senses have caused her some anxiety. In her story, she was seeking counsel and her adviser asked her to try and imagine herself as rooted to the ground with strong vines holding her in place. She has been curious about the imagery that was offered and was thus sharing it with me for my thoughts. While she spoke I tried to contain myself and continue to listen closely to her story. I myself was getting excited, because my heart did a little jump when she shared the imagery of the vines.
Why the ‘heart jump’? Well, just a few days earlier I was participating in an exercise called dynamic meditation where the goal is to exhaust the body and active thoughts so as to clear space to listen. (When I ‘clear space to listen’, it is my goal and hope to listen to God and I have found that God does indeed meet me in those spaces quite often.) Part of the exercise had us in an immobile state for 15 minutes. I must say it was quite painful physically and all my brain could do was attempt to figure out how much longer this would last and did not feel clear of thought at all!! ☺ However, when the music changed and we were given the opportunity to once again move, I found that my feet were planted to the ground. I could not move and actually had no desire to do the very thing I had been focusing on for the last 15 minutes.
As I stood there, a vision came into my mind of vines coming out of the ground and wrapping themselves around my right leg. They were beautiful like ivy and felt more akin to security than something binding or frightening. I stood there for a few moments and allowed myself to let the imagery sink in and then I physically reached down and gently unwound the vines so that I could move my legs and participate in the next part of the exercise. It was really a powerful experience on its own, and then to have my friend share virtually the same visual before hearing about my own was truly amazing. She and I both vowed to consider more what the imagery means for each of us.
The third instance came when I impulsively picked up (& bought) a book (Dare to Journey with Henri Nouwen) on my way out of the bookstore yesterday. Here is an excerpt from the first reflection:
“So we try to do more while our energies ebb away and we become like uprooted trees with our roots wildly groping for the sky. Thus we anxiously throw our arms toward heaven, praying for extra grace and special enabling, when instead we should be planted again in nourishing soil. That soil is not meant to make us do less, but to change our priorities so that we take time to be still. And in the stillness, find new strength and hope.” --Charles Ringma
So, there you have it. My little story of vines, threes and serendipity. I am still pondering what to make of it, but I must say the grounding feels quite nice. As always, thoughts and comments are welcomed. Peace. ☺