Mirrors on Leaves

There’s something in the air this year and I can feel it shimmering about. It’s as if the air is a bit colder, the winds a bit harsher, the sky a bit more crystalline. It’s perhaps more metaphysical than it is real, more conditioned than it is actualized, but c’est la vie.

It’s one of those inflection points where I need to step back, evaluate my worldview, and focus on the reason for this angst that tears at the fringes of my spirit. What have I surrounded myself with that bleeds into my soul? What can I do to ring-fence my heart?

I find in these moments that considering nature for all of her ferocious glory is a balm to my soul and a good foundation to start from. You see, nature has a balance I don’t often find in humanity. It may be cruel for its application, what with the predation, hunting, and savagery of animalistic expression, but it’s necessary.

From the microscopic to the macroscopic, nature exists and functions in ways that aren’t subject to the whims and fancies of a creator.

I always take the time to wander my mother’s gardens when I’m at home. Not much changes from year to year; the flowers are much the same, the shrubs and bushes as well. But, given the entirely different ecosystem that Southern California inhabits compared to my New England residence (and even my Irish countryside farm), it still merits the same fascination and stroll every time.

You’ve seen the outputs of my strolls through the flora and fauna. From the riotous colours of a dragonfly at rest to the monochromatic simplicity of a snail gliding along a blacked wrought-iron rail; from the dew-dropped roses to the resplendent oranges and yellows of the tangerines and limes. All work together to resonate with a collective harmony that offsets the aforementioned existential angst. It’s nature at her best.

On this occasion, I saw the burned reds and browns of one of the myriad heavenly bamboo (Nandina domsestica) sprinkled about the flower beds. This was a holdover from my father’s fascination with plants, both foreign and domestic, and smacks of the history and provenance of a time long forgotten. Regardless, these reds and browns were offset by the most delightful gathering of crystalline dew. Each drop was a microscope to the delicate leaves in which they resided, calling attention to the colours, veining, and patterns that would easily pass by a casual observer’s eye.

In viewing this momentary wonder, I’m provided a mirror to my innermost parts. Believe what you will but these dewdrop microscopes become mirrors in ways that are hard to conceive. I get a chance to look beyond the mask I wear each day to the innermost parts of my psyche and soul. They strip away the pretense and worry, the wrinkles and the shaded eyes and drive my sight directly home to the heart. I am allowed to understand, even if only momentarily, the unguardedness and vulnerability lying within. All from the dewdrops lining simple, uncomplicated leaves.

We set about defining resolutions for ourselves: weight loss, better mental health, diets, and exercise. We seldom regard the conditions of our hearts as being equally important. All of that angst that I discussed at the start of this post can be seen as an indicator that perhaps the tending of my heart is the most important resolution I could make.

I know not your journey or your story. I know little of the ways and means by which you orbit the sun alongside me. But what I do know is that the most valuable commodity that you possess has little to do with earthly wealth or status. It lies within, seldom seen unless a mirror is held just so. Perhaps this year is the time for you to focus inside instead of out. Who knows who or what you’ll encounter?

May it ever be so.