Dear Readers,

Hello!

What is something you have experienced in the past five days that has filled you with joy?

Tell me more! (smile)   

Said as I imagine each of you pausing for a moment, thinking, then perhaps smiling, or at least your face and eyes lighting up as you remember what that something was!

Weeping cherry trees. I am loving the resilience of our pair of beautiful messengers of spring!   We have had some strong winds. Some borderline frosty nights. Some clouds hiding the sun. And still, the buds have continued to pop open more and more to this lush weep of limbs!

If you have read other Blueprints for a Hope-Filled Life, then you know I am a dancer between opposites. I have a personal belief that life is designed in opposites, and it is our dance of grace in how we continually and dynamically move between.

Like these breathtaking weeping cherry trees. They do not outstretch like other trees, “arms” open wide and tall. They “weep,” hanging closely towards their trunk foundation and downward. And yet, they bravely and vulnerably step first into being seen ahead of the mighty oaks and maples, poplars and birch. They beckon mourning doves to build nests in their well-established greenery before other trees have unfolded their sheltering leaves.

The weeping cherry trees display all their vibrancy for all to see, meeting onlookers at eye level. Onlookers do not have to gaze upward or only see a partial display of new beginnings due to some of the view visible only to the clouds or only touching the bellies of flying birds.

They weep.  And.  They are incredibly beautiful.

A dance of grace between.

The winds and frosts of life and the beautiful and perpetual beauty life holds.

Namaste’

Christine

The Creases Now Speak

Bian

Mỹ pulled out a picture of Grandma Linh and Grandpa Bảo. They looked to be in their late teens.  As Bian looked closer, she saw a protruding belly on Grandma Linh. She was pregnant with Mỹ.

Next was a picture of an American gentleman. Mỹ explained that his name was Edward and that he had been a journalist who came into their coffee shop for a few weeks during the Vietnam War. Mỹ was quiet for a minute before she went on to say “your grandma wanted me to go the United States with this man, to have him help me get to your Uncle Hein. She thought I would be safer with her brother than staying in Vietnam.”

Mỹ looked up at Bian as she said “I chose to go against the words your grandma was speaking to me. She was telling me to leave. I knew it would break her heart if I did. She never knew that I didn’t write the letter to this man as she asked me to do. The centering to my heart was to stay with your grandma.”

Mỹ then pulled out a picture of Bian as a newborn. Mỹ told Bian she was hours old in that picture. When Bian asked where her father was, Mỹ was quiet. Bian could barely hear Mỹ as she then said, “we had not yet met.”

Bian felt a chill. Part of her wanted to shout “WHAT?” yet something deeper in her knew Mỹ was about to tell her what she meant the night she cried out “you gave me life he tried to take.”    Mỹ was about to confirm what Bian suspected. She was not her father’s biological daughter.

“One night I was returning home from the coffee shop when I was approached by a stranger. A man I had never seen before. He invited me to grab a coffee with him and when I refused, he grabbed my arm and began pulling me down an alley. I tried to scream, but he placed his hand over my mouth and told me he would kill me if I shouted for help. I felt the knife blade against my throat.”

Bian held up her hand in a gesture of silence. “I don’t know if I can hear more.” 

Mỹ nodded. “What I want you to know my precious one is that I wanted to die. I thought of taking my life. And then I learned I was pregnant. I felt you inside me. I heard your heartbeat. When I heard you, I knew I now had something to live for.”

“Mom, YOU WERE RAPED!”  As the words sank deeper into every inch of Bian’s body, engulfing her heart in a tight squeeze, the feeling like a hot iron coursing through her stomach, Bian then felt the tears gush from her eyes.

“Mom, I was not conceived out of love.”

“My precious one. You were born out of love, and that is what matters most. As you grew from the pumping of my heart, below the center of my heart, every breath you took was from love. Life challenges us to believe that love endures all things. In the moment someone was trying to take love away from me, you were born to remind me every day love will always be greater than anything else.”

That night, once she finally fell asleep, Bian had a dream. A wise sage was asking Bian to sit in a garden. He was showing Bian a rose bush. Bian went to reach for a rose, planning to cut it from the stem, when the wise sage gently said Không, con yêu dấu của Mẹ, bây giờ là của chúng ta để lấy và làm của riêng chúng ta. “No, my dear child, it is not ours to take and make our own.”

The wise sage went on to say that that all living things are not to be held on to. All things take a form to provide what is needed for the whole. Trees, for example, provide oxygen and plants provide food and nourishment. As the sage sat with Bian, he told her human beings provide love.

The wise sage then told Bian that human beings are teachers; they provide to the whole all the experiences needed for a well-lived life. It remains a well-lived life in how one chooses to be the student. He then looked Bian in the eyes and told her “You have chosen well precious one. What is needed for the whole awaits. Let your mom go.”

As Bian sat watching the sunrise the next morning, she felt at peace.

What is needed for the whole awaits. Bian was ready to be the student and see where the waves would lead.