I have been driving around Pasadena this last week with a vague echo in my mind of this excerpt. It’s uncanny how I’ve heard this phrase over and again:
“She does not force her sap in summer.”
It took me quite a while to realize that the phrase was from Rilke. It almost felt like God had delivered it to me straight from the magical metaphors of heaven.
I’ve been thinking about what it means to (attempt to) force growth, versus the incremental movement that happens over time.
I’ve have only half-heartedly trained for a half-marathon that will commence on May 20th. I *think* I will make it to the finish line ok, but it could have been a better journey for me.
Running, to me, is a fairly good picture of how our character develops. We can’t tell bodies to run in a long race (and enjoy it!) if we haven’t made certain incremental steps over time in order to do so. We are so obsessed with the quick and easy. Running isn’t so. Neither is life.
I’m thinking now about what it means for our hearts to truly ripen; to stand confident, so unconcernedly still and wide.
Selah [pause, and think of that]
[Holga, I did not take; thanks to Paolo Schorli]