Namaste’ little one, journey in peace.   In another place, you will spread your wings.   In gratitude that our paths crossed though you I could not save.  The window too harsh for your speed today.    My finger gently pushing on your heart but a beat was not meant to be.  Your soul knew of this Earth it was time to leave.

Though I do not know what your life was before we met, quite certain I am that you gave your best.  Among the meaning in your tiny frame you bring, immense power in the smallest of things.  As I held the warmth of you – affirmation that death is just another door to enter through – I pondered the message you had for me.   With an open heart, I was ready to receive.

I laid you to rest in the bow of a tree; perhaps it was one where you used to sing.   I reflected on what I was doing and thinking before your beckoning.  Perhaps it was for the temporary pause, since you are also a messenger about speaking one’s voice with right timing.  After all, I was in the middle of writing a message that perhaps the Universe thought should be modified.   Perhaps I was redirected so as not to hit “send” until another time.

Or perhaps you were bringing a message about death that you wanted me to convey; something that another could find helpful if experiencing someone or something they cherish slipping away.   Or maybe it was as ‘simple’ as the opportunity to hold you in honor of the life you had lived – you little one as a tiny gift.

And then I heard the message you had for me, affirmation of the immense power in the smallest of things.   The awe of holding winged friends like you not new, but this time, little one, your voice penetrated through.   Just as the Universe holds you and I safe, I had the honor of holding the Universe today.

And if you, little one, are the Universe, and all of us are too – well, what if we each looked at one other person the same way I looked at you?  People wouldn’t have to look at the entire world this way; if they just started with one person, what a difference it would make!

I anticipate you knew you were messenger, you knew your purpose the Universe asked of you.  In your songs, in your feathered colors, the way you miraculously flew.   If each of us voiced our “song”, shined our radiance, didn’t hide our miraculous gifts – yes, this too, would be another powerful world shift.

Namaste’ little one, thank you for your sacrifice you made.   My honor to have intersected with you as you began your journey to another place.    You have made a difference, and I’m certain my life wasn’t the only one you left your mark with.  Soar, soar high little one, the mightiest tiniest gift.

A drive to a day certain to hold sorrow; a family now feeling a void, a hole.  They were glistening in the stillness, their message of forever love; one a distance away, symbolic of another now watching from above.  Their messages wouldn’t erase the grief taking place, but their energy spreading faith and hope.  That even when someone physically is out of sight they do not permanently go.

At first it was a wheelchair, and then it was standing tall; special wrappings on the legs and someone behind ensuring there wouldn’t be a fall.  Hundreds of others running past strong on two legs; able to easily step in a running pace. Did others see his will, his strength, what effort it may have taken for him to be at the turn?  Did anyone else imagine his story, of if watching us hurt? In gratitude for the body that was about to see me through; running 13 more miles my capability to do.

Holding a sign for those that wanted someone to steady their gait; follow whichever time was the right pace.  Always noticed in runs before but had I ever appreciated their role? The arm strength they must brandish to keep a steady flow.  Cheerleaders in words, beacons without a sound; the encouragement and assurance for runners who might doubt.  Steady steps and guidance, perhaps a friendship after crossing the line.  These pacers ensuring many learn within themselves they are not the quiting kind.

Givers of time, of music, of a smile or a “you can” as they read a bib.  “Spectator” doesn’t begin to describe their gifts.  It may be a song that makes a tiring body want to dance.  Or it is a high five “way to go” of the hand.  It is a sign that reads “great job total stranger” when a few miles remain.  Or the sign meant to move runners from their serious place.  “All this work for a banana at the finish line”; at less than a mile to go a reminder “the end you will soon find”.  It is the lady standing with her walking canes, another angel to whisper “appreciate your ability to complete this race”.  It’s the family offering water, Gatorade, cheers, and the perfect song “moving on down the road, and the “almost there” and “only 2 miles to go”.  Judgement doesn’t exist, compassion the leader of the day.  Inspiration and belief in one another the themes at play.

A cheerful voice with a radiant smile.  Though I anticipate she has been on her feet for a while.  Not just the morning, but days, weeks, years; serving others and not an end in near.   Hard working, perhaps sore feet and sore back but “can’t stop” her backbone to brace; is she ever noticed outside of her family and friends for her caring grace?

Once again a note – it seems to resonate with my soul to do when I travel from and to home.  Included in the message “thank you for being you” along with an extra tip.  That at least for today she did not feel insignificant my wish.  I will not know her reaction, yet I “know” it was the right action to take.   To let another know they are appreciated for the difference they make.

Like a tree that provides shade, shelter, a wind break or the promise of new beginnings each Spring.   Never saying a word yet communicating so many things.  Strangers are there for us to see; not inconsequential their purpose to be.  Messengers in many forms are there to guide us through, two-legged, four, winged – all reasons to be on our path too.  If we are open to peace, to love, to joy, hope, and faith, we will notice these angels every step we take.  I may not see the watchful swan, paralyzed gentleman, pacers, race supporters, or waitress again physically.  But the world will through me.   Not because of this blog, though that plays a part too; but because of the imprint they have left fueling my gratitude.

Is there a stranger standing beside you – do you notice that person in front of you waiting in line?  Or that person sitting at a table to your right?  Without speaking any words what might they have to say?  Do you hear a whisper from your soul today?  Is it nudging you to appreciate, laugh, feel joyful, or trust?  Listen close for each person that crosses our path a must.  Opportunity to teach us or us to teach in return.  Every person each other’s messenger.

Did she know before we would what the world would need?  Did she know the magnitude of darkness that would soon be?   Perhaps it was a gesture as simple as what they mean; white roses in remembrance when someone departs, an honoring.   But since something much bigger than us all orchestrates messages for us to heed; much more my beautiful bouquet has been trying to speak.

A representation of purity, of innocence, of light – as defined, the symbolic opposite of darkness – light.

I reread “Soft White Petals” and I reflect on this past week.  Have I made my footprints on my life journey the best steps they can be?

I felt joy through each crunch of the fallen leaves, my exercise partner running beside me.    My ears opening further in each trail we traveled through; ‘hearing’ how in endings there is promise of brand new.  Five more months give or take before the barren trees bud and sprout green; certainty that the cycle of life will bring new beginnings.

I felt peace and tranquility as the blue heron flew beside me.    Life had tapped loved ones on the shoulder with a health change of someone they hold dear; my focus on peace to counter any fears.  My soul also in harmony from a wonderful weekend collecting on a birthday gift; an annual tradition to surprise each other with making memories together – me and my sis.

I felt gratitude for the Universe – it never leaves my side; countless answers to wishes time after time.   “May our weekend travels be safe” and a Universal orchestration to ensure it would be; a detour for a missed turn revealed the purpose of our circling.   Highly likely part of an accident if we had been earlier in arriving.    And another example of a simple request that we would find a front row parking spot for the few minutes we would need; two empty spots front and center affirming the ‘simple’ is truly extraordinary.

I felt compassion and love for so many friends in pain, struggling to hold on to their hope and faith.   Divisions growing wider, darkness and light at war.    Anguish, anger, clamoring for footholds, all impacted to their very cores.    Doing the only thing I know to do; trust in the purpose of what we go through.   My own faith that in the devastation so many feel will be the catalyst for change the world needs; through their knowing, their deep understanding hate is not the answer, a new world they will influence to be.   We learn best through opposites and only in the opposites can we end the cycles that need to break; hopelessness begets hope, hate begets love, dark begets light – each of us a choice we can make.   Under the bodies we inhabit, as souls we are all the same; that we can all come to see that to the Universe a very deep wish I make.

I thought of holding on to the white roses, a keepsake I could preserve and keep safe.  And then I thought about the giver of this beautiful bouquet.  Though I learned some of her story, I only caught glimpses of her full life.  Her age would suggest she had lived through a significant point in time.  She lived during a time when the world was in a very dark place; when an immense judgement of an entire race.   I do not know what she thought of that time or how it may have shaped her values and her views.

But I know that she surrounded herself and anyone who knew her with incredible beauty of many breathtaking hues.  Her garden full of yellows, blues, greens, pinks, reds, and white.   Flowers planted, colors blended together to create a stunning sight.   The yellow of joy, the green of peace, hope, and healing.    The pink of gratitude, the magenta of new beginnings.   The white of light, the red of love, the blue of faith.  Into this world she cast a very powerful array.

One by one as each rose reaches its final display, I will release each to continue its way.   To flow with the creek downstream, on the currents of steadiness and strength.  To flow into nooks and cracks and forks of whatever direction the creek takes.   Perhaps a petal will glide by a stick that nothing else could pass by.    That petal finding a tiny opening, a crack of light.    In partnership with the petals are the leaves that have also let go; their sureness of upcoming rebirth as they also join the flow.

These beautiful petals are not meant to hide; into this source of life, the water will carry each petal of light.

From the first warmth of Spring to the last frost of Fall, an array of colors in bloom, some low to the ground and others rising tall.   Shared conversation about many a thing, while looking out the window frequently.  This beautiful garden our centerpiece as she reminisced of her life to me.  The garden forming before the walls of her home started to take shape, a dirt bed sanctuary for her special keepsakes.

My honor to not only meet this special soul, but a treasured part of this breathtaking garden would follow me home.   I can still see her smile as she insisted I take a bouquet of my choosing and the feel of the garden scissors she handed me.  Unable to join me for a stroll through her masterpiece, but from the door her gentle guidance of what I needed to see.  My pause at a beautiful red and yellow flower brought a twinkle to her eye.  “Have you ever seen one like that?” then her await of my reply.  “I don’t think so” brought a further glow to her already joyful face.   A flower she brought with her from Germany she went on to explain.

A wise teacher instructing how to cut each stem from the base so as not to injure this rarity.  Then a gently wrap of each stem in a wet napkin that they would endure my travels safely.   That when I got home they would be ready to stand in a vase as brilliantly as they did in their garden base.   That each time I glanced at them I would remember one of the most treasured experiences I had this day.   Her elegant blend of humility and pride wanted me to treasure the flower as she did too; that I would think of her with great fondness not what she expected me to do.

Our paths crossed with her knowing she wouldn’t see the blooms of Spring again, aware she was that her life journey was nearing its end.    The original purpose for our intersection not something she wished to pursue; a written life story she decided she no longer wished to do.  Perhaps I should better say the original intent not done, but purpose was still achieved.   I was meant to have my heart and life imprinted from time shared with a soul as radiant as the garden she relished tending.

Each time I have the honor of meeting with someone where the timing of death is more known, I find myself in awe of the reflection of how their life did unfold.    I relish seeing the connectivity, how one event was preparation for what ahead wasn’t yet seen.  I love to hear the gratitude and the immense love, how someone sees that abundance and blessings aren’t in ‘stuff’.    I equally delight in all the ways I see how someone has touched many a life and what footprints they will leave; and I think to myself “what an incredible life, such an amazing legacy.”

And as part of the gift given to me, I pause and make sure I give time to think – am I doing all I can to make my footprints on my life journey the best steps they can be?   How about your footprints, what imprint do they leave?  What indents remain when you are no longer seen?   As the expression states about someone being happier after time spent with someone else, would that be what others tell?   Would someone you stood behind in a store walk away smiling when they walked out the door?   Would someone watch you and see the lightness in the steps you take?  Or would they ponder why you appear to be wearing a heavy heart today?   Would someone be inspired or feel encouraged after hearing words you speak?  Or would they see what “isn’t” and “can’t” and fill with negativity?

No matter the age we’ve lived or the perception of what we can do “someday”, every moment is the potential to leave our footprints along the way.   It can be easier to hear how we need to make the most of each day because we aren’t given a guarantee, easier than the truth of these words being fully seized.   The honor of time with this extraordinary gardener affirmed another truth; the essence of who we are repeatedly shows through.    We learn, we grow, we evolve, and we change; but there are some core aspects that tend to remain.

Like a beautiful years old garden that I had the privilege of walking through on a late Spring day.

When the call came that there was a gift to receive, these words kept repeating within me.  “Don’t shed a tear” a replay in my mind.  Perhaps like the poem “Don’t Weep for Me” by Mary Elizabeth Frye.   Her gratitude to all who aided her during her final months was payment one hundred twenty-five ways; the most elegant white roses to be divided among many a vase.   Again, my honor for having my path meet this luminous soul one day a few months ago.  And once again a treasure I would get to take home.   Just as then, I am sure what she would want of my glance at these each time; to reflect more on the beauty of nature in these pearls of white.  As then I will also glance and fondly remember a very special day; a day my life became more blessed by extraordinary grace.

In a few days, the soft petals will further unfold before letting go, their purpose then achieved.  To have brought smiles, joy, appreciation, reminders of life’s blessings.    Each precious bloom holding affirmation that we always receive far more than we give.   And that there are very breathtaking ways to leave a final footprint.