For me, writing is like seeds sprouting---like the primal energy of the Cosmos appearing in plant life. I never really, completely know what will emerge from the tip of my ink pen---I write with a pen and ink, yes. It requires patience and skill. I'm sure that the egoic, materialistic types think that they can explain what happens, to a degree, when a seeds sprouts, but actually they cannot, anymore than they can explain the birth of a new human baby-soul into the world. The acorns from Pincio Park grounds, the Borghese Palace and Gardens in my beloved Roma, sprouted today! They bring the Borghese again to my mind once again; the museum that has the marvelous Bernini sculpture of Daphne being chased by Apollo, as she sprouts into leaf, into a tree rather than to submit to his demands. The tiny leaf sprouts are actually visible emerging from her finger tips.
I feel a great Security when I see a seed sprouting, especially those for whom (yes, 'for whom') I've been waiting a long time for them to come up. Seeing that first glimpse of the turgid leaf stem as it heaves its leaf-shoulders, breaking the earth's surface, is a Satisfaction for me that makes the rest of the day, even life itself, worthwhile! The Sprouting of Seeds, pushing and heaving their shoulders to the LIGHT is a magical, even a mystical encounter, and I mean 'mystical' as a person's experience of God, not an atmospheric weather condition (remember, my blog my turf?). An individual's encounter with spiritual can't be completely explained, but I am feebly and honestly trying here anyway; that's the work that real writers do. The seed's moving to the Light is an encounter with life energies, both in itself and outside itself, the Life energies, the etheric energies of the Cosmos which we all share. I did have to spread some snail poison on the cucumber seed area this morning---sometimes seeds need a little help from their friends the gardeners. Such is life in the real world. Why be squeamish?
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