Acceptance

Today, as I had hoped, the yellow iris I planted last weekend reflected in the pond. During an otherwise mundane moment in the kitchen, a flutter of movement caught my eye through the kitchen window.Was it frogs? (I have been eagerly awaiting the time when frogs discover our little pond.)  No, little birds were playing by swooping out of the sky and dipping into the pond. They beckoned me back to the present moment.  Someday the pond will also reflect a magnolia with lovely pink flowers.  A dear friend rescued the small tree from the nursery and gave it to me.  Many healthy branches had sprung up around a dead central leader.. I had to amputate the central leader; sacrifice it, for the plant to grow and thrive. Hmm, is this analogous to the mastectomy of my right breast?  Will I now be thriving and growing?  Cavities in the trees around our house have sprung into my awareness. After my right breast was cut off, sacrificed to save my life, there remains a cavity.  Not a flat place but a definite cavity.

The pond itself  illustrates interesting evolution in acceptance. I arrived home from a 5 day NVC retreat last summer to find that I had a pond. Much larger than the one I imagined and thought I had described, it immediately turned into a large mud puddle in our dry summer.  The large phallic rock right in the middle of my imagined woodland garden also made me wince.  My husband and his friend the back hoe operator had a great time and imagined themselves creating this lovely surprise and gift for me. Part of me thought, I must speak up for what I really want, but another part of me didn't have the heart to receive their gift with anything less than enthusiasm and gratitude. 

Once "the big C" entered our lives, (remember John Wayne saying that?) changes to the pond went on the back burner. During the fall and winter the pond proved an interesting feature of the landscape . "Did the pond freeze?" became a common question we used to gauge the weather. After a skim of snow it became all the more beautiful. Ah what animal tracks are those across it? Eventually the pond and the rock disappeared under an unusually high load of snow.

Now the pond is an integral part of our backyard. We accept its transient vernal nature. This week it exists because we had more than an inch of rain.A friend's dog romped happily through it. Last week, before the rain, it almost emptied.  Are there areas in your life where you recognize acceptance at work or need more acceptance from yourself or others?