November 2013
“A great wind has blown this seed into a new environment. Unfamiliar surroundings cause me to question my new found soil. Where am I? How did I get here? Why am I here? Where is my direction? What is my purpose? How vulnerable an un-germinated seed must feel--helpless and at the mercy of the elements. “Oh, how I could thrive back where I was, in a previous life;” I think to myself, yearning for the difficulty of newness to be remedied. Memories of past plant-hood, strong roots, elevated bio-mass stretching toward the sun, bring shame to my small, bare, hard shell of a self. There I knew who and what I was. I had identity; I had purpose; I had life.
Rolling, blowing, flowing, getting eaten and shat, knocked around by the world around me, I look at myself and no longer see the plant I once was. I see my seed self and am frustrated by my passivity. No roots, no stems, no structure—no way to compose my reality; just a plain ole’ seed.”