Lately, I haven’t been able to walk as much as usual. The last few times, however, I had stopped to smell these gigantic magnolia blooms that are so incredibly sweet. In the moments of inhaling their heavenly scent, it felt like nothing could be wrong in the whole wide world.
I found myself thinking, if I could just bottle this feeling up, and if we all could just keep smelling this, everyone would be kind and everything would be okay. I realize that sounds naïve and utopian, but wouldn’t it be nice if it really were that simple?
This particular magnolia tree is not far from my house. I pass it six times on each walk and usually take a whiff at least once, but sometimes more than once.
This past weekend, I took a walk and headed straight for the tree. I was ready for a big dose of its therapeutic fragrance but to my surprise, every single bloom was gone. There was no evidence they were ever there.
I had that split-second moment where I doubted that what I was seeing was true. Were they ever really there? Had I imagined the whole thing? Those of us who have experienced trauma understand how easily and quickly we can doubt our own reality—how we can question ourselves.
Once more, I looked top to bottom. Down low, I found two dried up blooms, which at least confirmed they used to be there. I felt sad and missed my friends.
The one thing we can always count on is change. Hard times don’t last and good things transition also. I enjoy my walks year-round. While I have thoroughly enjoyed this season of magnolia blooms, I have 100% confidence that I will enjoy my walks as I journey into summer and find many new elements of nature to delight me. I always do.
How futile would it be for me to spend my energy trying to find a way to make the magnolia blooms come back? To not enjoy my walks because things aren’t the way they used to be?
I saw a quote yesterday that speaks volumes to me. Daphne Rose Kingma said, “Holding on is believing that there’s only a past; letting go is knowing that there’s a future.”
Let that soak in. Holding on means I’m clinging to the past because I think that’s all there is, and life will never be as good as it once was. Letting go is asserting my confidence that there is more to come, and that will include greater gifts than I can even imagine.
We may face some time in between, the time I refer to as the hallway—when one door has closed and another has yet to open. While this might feel like a difficult time because we’re sitting in the midst of uncertainty, it’s a beautiful, necessary time. This is where we clarify what we really want, what is most important, and consider where we want to go from here.
Even if what we desire doesn’t come to fruition, just the act of considering possibilities and dreaming, being open-minded to and confident in the solutions that are coming, helps bring those new gifts into being.
Asking the question ‘how’ is so much more powerful than sitting in the question of ‘why.’
Wherever you find yourself today, squeeze every drop out of it. Soak up every moment, every joy and every lesson. Appreciate that whatever is true today is preparing you for what will be true tomorrow. Nothing is wasted. Everything is used for the next step.
I remember my son playing video games as a child. He was always so excited to achieve whatever was needed to advance to the next level. He didn’t lose everything that he had before. He kept what he had and was granted new resources and activities. The game just kept getting better.
Our lives are no different. I can look back at all of the various pursuits I have chosen and the challenges that have found me. Every single one of them has contributed to where I am today and where I am going.
On my second pass of the tree on my last walk, I stopped to look again for any remaining blooms. First I studied the area of the tree I normally see when I walk by, and I saw nothing but the two dead blooms I already mentioned. Still hoping to see something else, I decided to inspect the whole tree. This brings up another very important point about transition.
We need to make sure we are exploring situations from every perspective. Maybe the gift is there but we’re missing it because we’re only looking at our circumstances from the same familiar angle.
When I walked around to the back of the tree, I saw several new buds that hadn’t even opened yet and one full bloom in all its glory, nestled in shade under a thick patch of leaves. Oh I was so delighted! I inhaled its delicious fragrance extra deep for several lingering moments.
What a treat that day to smell magnolias again, especially after thinking they were done and the fresh reminder that their season won’t last forever. Nothing does, but with the right perspective, we can always look forward to the next thing that blooms ... the next gift. We may not know what that is right now, but we can count on it coming if we’re open to it, looking for it and willing to shift our perspectives to find it.
