Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

When we choose growth over perfection, we immediately increase our shame resilience. Improvement is a far more realistic goal than perfection. Merely letting go of unattainable goals makes us less susceptible to shame. When we believe “we must be this” we ignore who or what we actually are, our capacity and our limitations. We start from the image of perfection, and of course, from perfection there is nowhere to go but down.

Brené Brown, I Thought It Was Just Me (but it Isn’t). Making the Journey from “What Will People Think?” to “I Am Enough” (Penguin Publishing Group, Feb 2007)


Notes: Portrait: NPR, 2019

I walked slowly, and listened

After the rain, I went back into the field of sunflowers.
It was cool, and I was anything but drowsy.
I walked slowly, and listened

to the crazy roots, in the drenched earth, laughing and growing.

~Mary Oliver, from “Sometimes” in Red Bird: Poems


Notes:

‘The’ Onion

Peter Glazebrook poses with his 14.6-pound onion, which won its class in the giant vegetable competition on the first day of the Harrogate Autumn Flower Show in Harrogate, England.  He has won the onion competition multiple times. He has also won awards for the world’s largest carrot (20 lbs), potato (11 lbs), cauliflower (60 lbs), beetroot and parsnip.

This post was inspired by American author Lawrence Sanders and his Deadly Sin series where his mouth drooling description of sandwiches have never left my consciousness for over 25 years.  His lead character is Francis Delaney, a New York police homicide detective who eats wonderful sandwiches while solving grisly murder cases.

Francis X. Delaney is standing at the counter in the kitchen of his two-story New York brownstone, making himself a sandwich. First, he slices beef from Sunday`s leftover roast and piles it on a thick piece of black bread. A couple of slabs of Muenster cheese goes on next, covered by two circles of raw onion. There`s a can of sardines in the refrigerator, and he places several of the little fish on top of the onion. He dabs a little horseradish over the growing stack, then adds two tomato slices. No lettuce. He slathers mayonnaise on another slice of black bread to complete the sandwich.  Standing over the sink so he can drip all he wants, he eats it with pleasure.


Notes:

 

Ok / Day is Done / Time for Recap / Go!

questions-love-focus-time


Source: School of Life “Know Yourself Prompt Cards” via swiss-miss.com

Seed: I wonder where it is right now.

hand-seed

A seed knows how to wait. Most seeds wait for at least a year before starting to grow; a cherry seed can wait for a hundred years with no problem. What exactly each seed is waiting for is known only to that seed. Some unique trigger-combination of temperature-moisture-light and many other things is required to convince a seed to jump off the deep end and take its chance— to take its one and only chance to grow. A seed is alive while it waits. Every acorn on the ground is just as alive as the three-hundred-year-old oak tree that towers over it. Neither the seed nor the old oak is growing; they are both just waiting. Their waiting differs, however, in that the seed is waiting to flourish while the tree is only waiting to die. When you go into a forest you probably tend to look up at the plants that have grown so much taller than you ever could. You probably don’t look down, where just beneath your single footprint sit hundreds of seeds, each one alive and waiting. They hope against hope for an opportunity that will probably never come. More than half of these seeds will die before they feel the trigger that they are waiting for, and during awful years every single one of them will die. All this death hardly matters, because the single birch tree towering over you produces at least a quarter of a million new seeds every single year. When you are in the forest, for every tree that you see, there are at least a hundred more trees waiting in the soil, alive and fervently wishing to be. A coconut is a seed that’s as big as your head. It can float from the coast of Africa across the entire Atlantic Ocean and then take root and grow on a Caribbean island. In contrast, orchid seeds are tiny: one million of them put together add up to the weight of a single paper clip. […]

In the laboratory, we simply scratch the hard coat and add a little water and it’s enough to make almost any seed grow. I must have cracked thousands of seeds over the years, and yet the next day’s green never fails to amaze me. Something so hard can be so easy if you just have a little help. In the right place, under the right conditions, you can finally stretch out into what you’re supposed to be. After scientists broke open the coat of a lotus seed (Nelumbo nucifera) and coddled the embryo into growth, they kept the empty husk. When they radiocarbon-dated this discarded outer shell, they discovered that their seedling had been waiting for them within a peat bog in China for no less than two thousand years. This tiny seed had stubbornly kept up the hope of its own future while entire human civilizations rose and fell. And then one day this little plant’s yearning finally burst forth within a laboratory. I wonder where it is right now.

~ Hope Jahren, Lab Girl 


Notes:

  • Photograph:Katherine with Mmm.
  • Related Posts: Lab Girl
  • Inspired by: Albert Einstein: “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”