Its “hand” outstretched and ready for when the time came; to catch the falling drops when it might rain. It doesn’t know when it might become the receiver to then pay forward it’s helping hand. It stands rooted in place trusting when it can. Present to the unknown, present to each moment that passes by. BE-ing as it is until it gains drinking water for a thirsty critter to find. It doesn’t ask for pity that it must endure dryness and heat. It doesn’t seek limelight either, only asking for respect through its humility.
It will share the gift of rain, replenishing itself as it gives to another in need. It will share the gift of rain to another, honoring the other’s diversity. It may be a winged soul who has the ability to fly. It may be a four-legged soul who has the ability to change its color to remain out of sight. It will share from the heart, emitting an unspoken message. “Come, drink, rest on my leaf”. The one it helps will also have no words it can express to say; “I am in gratitude for your kindness today”. Each heart sustaining the other interdependently. Threaded together by the rain’s gentle nourishing.
It was this cactus that I thought of the first miles of the race. It was giving once again as I strived to find my pace. The asphalt and the buildings challenging my mental attitude. Trees missing from scenery, my comfort “running zone” view.
Instead of trees I started to look at the individuals briskly walking instead of choosing to run. I looked at individuals who were focused not on competition but on fun. I saw souls who I knew thirteen and point one would not come easily. I looked at souls pushing souls in strollers to communicate handicapped does not equal limiting. I saw individuals who had lived life several more years then me; young at heart spirit and body one could certainly see. Each soul running with radiant determination and dignity.
I ran up a long hill three quarters through determined to dig in and run nonstop to the peak. To my left was a soul with the strongest arms – and spirit – his purpose to be inspiring. His left leg no longer a part of his body as he moved the crutches rapidly up this same hill. If anyone might think this hill hard, they had the opportunity to draw from his will.
I don’t know his story, no words exchanged. Yet the honor to witness his outstretched hand the same. His heart communicating to others “yes, true, life can bring breakage. It is in the shattering we can choose a new complete”. This strong, mighty, fierce spirited soul who knew this hill was nothing compared to the mountains he already climbed was speaking volumes from what beats inside. His heart a teacher for hundreds if they chose to see, that nothing is impossibility. He was sharing the gifts of the rain that had down-poured for him at one time. The offering of his story to sustain how we chose to approach life.
The trees around me came into sight as I ran among the buildings and the tar under my feet. The trees were the human spirits I ran with – their strength and their beauty. I don’t know if I was able to pay forward from my heart as I passed runners in this race. My hope is that at least one individual was able to draw from my pace. I hope I was able to give back for all who inspired me this day. I hope the beat of my heart communicated “can, will, and I am grateful for you; don’t ever give up for there is nothing you can’t do”.
If someone walks past you, what might your heart communicate as they pass by? Will they be touched positively where their heart too resides? Will they see an outstretched hand available if they are in need? Or will they see they need to keep moving as there is no availability? Will they feel the kindness shared from rain’s replenishment? Or will they see fending for themselves is best?
To see and see again, to hear beyond verbal language our ears tune towards naturally. Trees adorned every mile and point one, the souls around me in the form of running feet.