“if you remain generous, time will come good; and you will find your feet again on fresh pastures of promise, where the air will be kind and blushed with beginning.” (john o’donohue – to bless the space between us)

the licorice plant, in a pot on top of the little chest on the deck, was clearly stressed. actually, beyond stressed. something had invaded it; webs were forming inbetween its branches and most of the leaves were turning yellow.

after having no luck combating this invader and worrying that whatever it was would spread to the herbs and vegetables we had planted right nearby, we made the decision to empty the pot and put the licorice plant into the sort-of compost pile next to the garage. we felt bad but thought it was best for the rest – eliminate that which is harmful, minimize the potential of further harm. we decided to go back to milaegers at some point and purchase another licorice plant. we just love the muted, soft shade of green of this plant with its somewhat wild, trailing branches.

when we brought home the new licorice plant, we ended up bringing it inside – placing it on an old stool in front of the living room window, enjoying it inside this time. in its place on top of the chest outside is now a new mint plant, which seems to love the spot in the limelight.

the other day, d was bringing a handful of weeds over to the “compost pile” and spotted our licorice plant. there it was, glory restored, its branches clear of webs, all silvery green leafing, its root ball firm and seemingly undamaged. without a word, he replanted it into a bigger pot and placed it on our babycat chair next to the driveway. the next time we went out to go for a walk, he drew it to my attention.

i was shocked to see this stunning licorice plant – revitalized. it seemed perfect in our now-outdoor wicker, next to the old fence that sports a beautiful green vine wall every summer. a new beginning for this plant – nourished, i guess, by the tumble of compost, the rain and fresh air, the shedding of a pot that might have been too small for its roots.

to say we are thrilled at the rejuvenation of our licorice is an understatement. every single time we are out back or we pass by it is a reminder of the chance of a second chance.

and in these times – so fraught – when we get lost: in the travails of discord in daily life and relationships, in the failure of making headway in our work, in any ability to let go of wounds – when we wonder if we dare hope for a new start – when we fight to give voice: to move from stagnation or a past that needs air, that needs releasing – when we recognize and eliminate that which harms us – when we work to actually create that new start – in these times, we need that reminder.

time will come good and you will find your feet again…where the air will be kind and blushed with beginning.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo