Abundance by Bill Wofford
Wow, that was a lot. Of time away. Of travel. Of family and friends. Of blueberries, blackberries, mushrooms and dahlias. Of coffee and beer and wine and meals out. Of magnificent cedars, stunning peaks, myriad waterfalls and countless bushes and trees bearing all manner of berries and fruits. This recent trip to the Pacific Northwest – the land of huckleberries and salmon runs, hiking boots and bear spray, totem poles and potlatch – brought to mind a trip to Alaska a few years back with my son and daughter and a couple of their friends. Our time together included the summer solstice, a time when the days are so long that the kids dubbed the trip, “Twenty Days in Alaska-no nights”.
One of the things that strikes me most when I’m far from home is how nature adapts to the geography and latitude. No long, lazy, languid dog days of summer when you get that far north. No, the race is on. To grow and bear fruit, to gather and feast, to breed and spawn. The urgency is palpable. Winter is coming and time’s a-wasting. Make hay while the sun shines, as they say. The message couldn’t be more clear-don’t wait, carpe diem. Like, NOW.
Meanwhile, back here in North Carolina, the sun keeps shining as the days gradually get cooler and shorter. Summer gardens may be petering out but the fall harvest is just around the corner. The edges may be softer, but the lesson doesn’t change. Gather ye rose buds while ye may.
Of course, abundance isn’t just about bountiful harvests, a frantic mating season, nice clothes, cars, houses or what have you. To my way of thinking, it is really a mindset, a way of being in this world. One where I remember to focus my attention with gratitude on what I have and what is right and good. And where I can accept the inevitable daily challenges as invitations to learn, to grow, maybe to try a little bit harder or at other times to accept and surrender a bit more. In those moments when I really can view the hard parts not as evidence of a harsh and hostile universe but as teachers here to help me learn, I feel able to really understand the essence of abundance.
No, this doesn’t mean I turn a blind eye to injustice and abuses of power or look for the silver lining in climate change. But maybe it means I remind myself that life finds a way through the dark, cold winters; and that each of us can help carry the torches to light the way; and to give thanks that I’ve got some matches and fuel to share. So, sure, winter is coming. But it’s not here yet. And here at Yoga Garden, we’re extending the growing season. These new infrared panels allow us to make our little garden into a greenhouse on demand. Our growing season has just gotten a whole lot longer. What could be more abundant than that? May you live abundantly.
