Spring 2019


There is a bulb buried deep inside us all that longs for the end of the season of dormancy. It contains, and is the symbol of all our potential. That bulb could reasonably be characterized as our life force, waiting for the opportunity to lend itself again to our regeneration. It longs for the right conditions so that it may burst forth and become the living thing that makes a difference in the circumstances in and around which it has been buried.

In its dormant state that bulb dreams… it longs for a time when it may become the thing that it is… essentially. It dreams of bursting forth and declaring its presence in the world. It desires to soak up the warmth and luster of sunlight all around it. It wants to drink of the rain’s abundance. It patiently waits to demonstrate the benefits it has accrued from the soil out of which it came, and from which it draws succor… and to which it knows it must eventually return. It wants to replicate itself, so that the earth will be a witness to its innate fecundity.

During the seasons of its dormancy it may have been cared for… or not. It may have been covered with weeds that hid, and in some cases suffocated its existence. It may have been trampled underfoot by the careless and/or the ignorant among us. It has had to endure the obscurity that things unnoticed must. It may have even succumbed to its own existential exhaustion, not giving up – but recognized the need to just rest.

In an effort to make sense of its experiences while in its state of apparent non-productivity, it finds itself agreeing with and embracing that oft repeated soliloquy from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. It is a piece that fosters the cultivation of patience, and has rightfully earned a place at the very core of our idealism:

“To every thing there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace”.

A time to be… and a time to be dormant.

The wisdom of the Preacher instructs us to be mindful of the “times” of our lives… lest we miss the opportunities to become what we long to be… even that which we essentially are.

 And so when we have given our all and find ourselves empty… When we have been trodden underfoot and otherwise stepped upon… When we have been dissed, and discouraged… When the thorns all around us have subjected us to their constant assault, and left us to nurse the wounds of an abrasively unforgiving culture… When we come to the end of our tethers, having been exhausted by our own vanity and our lack of discretion… Let us, even then, remember that these seasons too – will come to an end.

Like lilies in Spring we discover the essential us as a bulb waiting for the right season to burst forth, casting off the redundant obscurity of a season of dormancy so that we may become all that we are again. We look forward with a certain longing in our being to making our presence known and felt in a world gone bleak through our falls, and our follies, and the winters of our discontent.

Well… it’s Spring!

It is the time of rising up again! It is time to cast off the gloom of lives gone dormant for reasons that are too many to list, and too uncomfortable to regurgitate.

Let us declare a resounding “No!” to the naysayers… Let us issue a timely rebuke to those who would be uncaring, or ignorant, or oppressive, or any combination of these iniquitous qualities… Let us rise above our own sense of being unworthy, and redefine ourselves in terms of our ability to become more than we have been.

Like lilies, we all share a certain vulnerability. That being so, let us not allow our finiteness to prevent us from rising up and blooming again. Indeed, let us live into our existential duty to help to lift the spirits of those who await our coming again – with the timely offering of something so exquisitely and exhilaratingly beautiful.

One Love!

R. A. G.
Roy Alexander Graham
Copyright 2019. Figtree Enterprises, Inc.