The lotus

From the murkiest of waters, she blooms. She rises, petals towards the sun. Beginning again.
It’s the first time I’ve seen lotus flowers in this seemingly grotesque pond in this park. I’ve been here dozens of times without seeing such floats. I don’t know if they have always been here or that I never chose to look.
I wonder how often I’ve chosen to avoid or look away from seemingly unpleasant things or what’s uncomfortable. I think of privilege. The ability to turn off, look away, and keep quiet. What a privilege. My heart sinks at this thought. I embarrass myself. My belly pits from feeling stuck.

How do I help? What more can I do? Indirect and direct.
I think it will never truly collapse into being enough until all beings are happy and free. Birthing stems at length rising to open the beautiful, soft shells we call petals. I hope my life, my practice, my teachings, my love contributes in some way; big or small. 

Lokah samastah sukhino bhavantu. May all beings be happy and free, and may my practice and life, in some way, contribute.

stephanie birch