Picking Flowers On The Edge Of The Abyss

A poem and reflection on making sense in senseless times

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

“Our wandering planet tilting away from the Milky Way, now looks out toward the vast emptiness of intergalactic space. To face south these days is to look into the center of the “Virgo Galaxy Cluster” to which we belong. We seem a long way from home, and yet while we are here what loveliness and tranquility we find at the edge of the galactic expanse. We pick flowers at the edge of the abyss; that is our nature.” Harv Hiles (The Almanac of the Soul)

Now in the longest days of the year, we enter into the heat and heart of the summer.Here in my little woods situated in the hills of Indiana the weather has been exceedingly pleasant. This part of South Central Indiana is rolling and green, rainforest lush and humid. In the first week of June, the woods are thick with fully leafed trees with verdant wild underbrush. I know this kind of weather is a blessing these days, as the effects of climate change brings extraordinary heat to many parts of the northern hemisphere already. I’m expecting the dog days to arrive, steaming and too soon, but for now the garden is satisfied and reaching up, the birds are making nests and new broods are being born, the water in the pond is fresh and high. While biking home down our country road this weekend, I saw a bobcat run across the road. In a breathtaking flash of leonine grace it smoothly leaping into the thick brush at the wood line. The wildflowers are have gone from tender spring blooms to hot weather summer species—bee balm, wild snapdragons, spiderwort and early ragweed. I am savoring the unabashed generosity of these days, grounding myself in what makes sense in so often what feels like senseless times.

I am grateful that the American justice system (in this situation) worked, that even a wealthy powerful man, who advocates for and inspires violence, who is running his campaign as a call for retribution, was not able to bully, delay and scare off the judge and jury —and was convicted of the 30+ felonies he committed. This weekend the airwaves and news programs were filled with speculation, with one political party attacking the justice system, dismissing the honorable work of 12 jurors of peers as “rigged”. I can’t tell you how many times in the past years I’ve thought that you couldn’t make a movie of the kinds of things said and done by this particular politician, because it would just seem to far fetched to be considered a viable movie plot.

I know that in part, what we are dealing with is a politics of heartbreak and despair, which can so easily become a kind of rage. This heartbreak and rage has been manipulated by unscrupulous persons in power and directed toward others, creating scapegoats, demonizing and pitting communities (even families) against one another, eroding our ability to see how we are still and truly deeply connected and that we still share many of the same human experiences and longings.

When I read “picking flowers at the edge of an abyss” in the quote above, I thought yes, how true. There seems to be a yawning expanse all around us as the earth turns toward the summer sky, the stars feel so true— but far away. So what do we do? How do we live in these times? I don’t have any pat answers here, as I am wrestling day by day (like so many of us) to assess the most effective and true to my soul ways to respond.

But the one thing I do know is that I must continue to find courage, comfort and grounding in the things that make sense, things like; love, beauty, wonder, daily gratitude and awe, the natural world, our default inclination to be decent and kind to those we encounter. I must continue to lean into joy, for the goodness of life for the gift it is—joy being different than happiness and at its heart is its own kind of resistance to despair and the politics of rage. All I know to do, is to live as well as I can, with as much love as I know how to give, speak truth even when it’s uncomfortable but be kind as possible. Love the sweet moderate days of early June, love the bee balm, love the wild spiderwort coming up in my vegetable garden (and leave it there for the shear beauty of it), love my family and friends (including this Gathering of Spirits)….just keep loving and singing and picking flowers at the edge of the Great Turning.

Beloved, the kind of politics that endeavors to divide us and make us feel powerless and afraid, is just that - a kind of politics and not the true real shape of reality. The truth is — we are great with love and we are so very powerful. Why else would there be so much push back and bold attempts to keep us divided? Together we can make the kind of positive change that the majority of us are longing to see in the world. Let us keep grounding ourselves in what makes sense in senseless times. Let us remember to lean into beauty and pull up the water from a well of common goodness, let us be brave and true, always reaching just a little further than we thought possible.