Wednesday, April 01, 2009

The Violet

Humility, insights, calm tempers, desire, luck, sleep and peace

(from The Victorian Flower Oracle)

This is a very tall order for such a small flower, but I am looking to it for guidance for right now. It is well and good to tell myself to just let everything come to me in its due time. Let whatever will be, will be. But I get restless. I wonder, I wander, I sit and I ponder. I really do. I think I might ponder too much for my own good. I could've been like Merlin in the stories where he stays in his crystal cave for years and years just watching the water in the pool outside, or the dragonfly, or the wind whispering in the rushes...I could've been that man. But I am not. I am Katie. I am a mommy. I am a wife. I am a teacher. I am an artist. I am creative and flawed, faith-filled and doubting, intelligent and addled. I am all of it, and none of it. I think what I need now are the insights that the violet gives.
What insights...what insights...what does the violet saaaaay?

There is a trouble in being just what everyone expects of me. I bend over backwards to be friends with people I have never met. I give, and I encourage and I send love and even presents in the mail. I make and I do, and I sleep less and I eat more, and still I aim to please. You need your order when? Yes, I'll do matter...yes, I'll do it.

What will happen soon after I do all these things? What? Do you guess? I go crashing down, and down and down and down, until I can't find myself at the bottom of a very deep, very slippery-sided well, in which I have put myself. There is rareness in caring from those people whom you've only ever met through email, or blog posts, or order pads. Rareness. Rarity. Very...very...rare.

Instead, it is a kind of slipping away...a huff and a "weeeellll...." I almost hear an "...I never..." through the airwaves...How cruel. How sad. How unjust. How unfair. How maddening. How still I become. How I withdraw and change and remake.

Who have I been? A Business Woman? Surely...but thwarted by those I've never really met. Taking my designs with a laugh and sneers. Indignant that my dolls should have FEET. Livid that an order wasn't made, wrapped and sent in three day's time. Never a word over a precious piece of my heart and hands sent across the seas. Not enough money to sustain a dream of an actual real store to sell my wares in. Beautiful sentiments from caring hearts; "Thank you for making this for me!"; "I love it."; "You are so talented." thank you, people I've never met.

Who have I been? A Friend? Surely...but thwarted...again taking my designs with a laugh and sneers. Emails all about you, you, you...never a "what are YOU doing?" A slipping away and a flip of a hand and a "Well, what do you expect?" Not being important enough. Inspiring other women to fulfill their own dreams. Meeting them in real life. Hugging. Feeling kindred. Heart-sharing. Laughing. Getting $15 haircuts together. Drinking coffee and coffee and coffee together.

Who have I been? A Bright Spirit? Always...but my mouth can never hold what my heart wants to share. The walls build up again and my light looks for new ways to share what my heart wants to say...a new perspective? Who cares if they don't understand, if they don't comment, if they never come back again? What if they never come back again, if they don't comment, if I'm left?

Who have I been? A Mommy? Forever and Ever around the moon and back again for 9 hundred and 2 million and 34 and 6 hundred years...what IS forever in numbers? Impatient, overworked, underslept. Tickling, laughing, Listening. Books by candlelight, curious about life under rocks, digging holes in the sand all the way to China, setting up housekeeping in the dollhouse. Shouting, time-outs, no coats on cold days. Cuddles, I love you's, warm breakfast.

Who have I been? A Wife? Forever and Ever around the Moon, hand in hand. I'm "His Girl", he'd always come running after me, he worries, and he frets and he lets me be. He holds my hand and he rubs my feet. He comes after me. He comes after me. He comes after me.

Who have I been? An Artist? Always. It wells up in me. It comes out, I find, in all kinds of ways. I want to paint. I want to make butter. I want to cut paper. I want to bake bread. I want to sculpt doll heads. I want to make soap. I want to MAKE. I want to MAKE and MAKE and MAKE.

What does the Violet saaaaaaay?

Oh, she is quiet. She is mild. She is at peace. All this while she is charged with the responsibility of being an early herald of Spring. Her perspective has changed. She doesn't OWE anyone anything. She doesn't fret, she doesn't worry. She just gets up one day and says, "There...I've BEEN something." It is only for herself. She shines out her radiant, translucent purple-blue with the sun shining through her like stained-glass, and she feels right with her world...just BEING. Just being a Violet. Just being a violet. just being. being. And PROUD as all get-out of it for herself. "Look at what you did, little self! You are who you ARE. I am so proud of you, self, for just BE-ing."

I hear the violets now. I hear only who you are. No expectations. No rushing. No wondering. Just BE WHO YOU ARE.


Graciel @ Evenstar Art said...

brilliant and beautiful, katie!! i love violets. it's too early here in buffalo for their little faces to show, so thank you for the glimpse.

and yes, thank you for the needful reminder to just be. just be, just be. to accept all of it. the love and the sneers and the who-does-she-think-she-is.

surely, i care enough to comment. :) xo

Kipik said...

hmmm... I believe that once you make a connection, you are linked with that person forever. It doesn't matter that you never talk to them again. The soul never forgets... Yes! The nature of the mind is to seek, this cannot be helped... until it becomes sick of it and then someone turns the light on and there you are, in wonderland, except it's not you who's there any longer, but just the act of seeing.