Wild Musings

All of us carry a unique blend of possibilities and routine. Sometimes they are entwined–things we’ve done or believed for a long time begin to shift. Other times, the possibilities are a new direction, a path we’ve not taken before. One of the harder aspects of possibilities is the urge to “make” them happen. Once in a while, it seems like that works. And other times it has an elusive quality, like no matter how hard we try to bring something about, it slips or fades away.

A Wild Dare?

What if possibilities were less about making things happen, and more about truly putting one foot in front of the other and seeing what happens? This is not a passive way of being, it holds to the present with an element of curiosity and wild abandon–it’s not about being reckless, but about shedding some layers of control…or perceived control. Notice the places in your life that most tempt you to direct them. See where you can open your closed fist, even a little, and let life and light in. It’s uncomfortable, to be sure, but it invites energy and possibilities that you cannot see within your tight grip.

On Fertile Ground

In the early morning
well moistened soil, drunk with snow melt,
brings forth a rich, earthy, intoxicating smell.
It’s a stop-you-in-your-tracks scent
as if the whole neighborhood were a greenhouse.

This air lures us outside
heavy jackets left on the coat rack with wild abandon
as we step into sun and blue
with a chill in the wind
but nothing like what we’ve known.

This coolness speaks of warmth
just around the corner.
And somehow that alone
makes it warm enough
to walk unburdened by so many layers.

It’s not yet time for bursts of green and bloom
but the ground shimmers with possibility.
Very soon we’ll be dizzy with color
our winter-weary eyes wide
as they adjust to purples, reds, greens, and yellows
after shades of white and grey.

No charge for the this feast of the senses
just a willingness to walk the path that is before you:
tasting the air
and filling your lungs
with the rich smell of fertile ground.

–Chris Heeter