Unlike Roald Dahl, who always wrote in pencil on yellow paper. Or Salvador Dali who sourced inspiration from giving his guests after dinner moustaches. When I share posts, they are nearly always inspired by nature. With her inspiration in hand, the writing comes easy. And therein lies a tale.
It was beautiful English morning. The sun was bright in the blue sky and everyone was talking about the fact. The trees were all green and summery.
A little group of builders had just arrived, leaving 2 large skips on my driveway (I’m not having any work work done. Apparently it is in aide of someone else’s house in another street?) They said they will only be there until the end of the week. I said ‘get real’ and they started playing reggae out loud in the street.
They carried on happily with their skips and their reggae (after all, perhaps one day it will be I who is in need of anothers driveway) And with that sorted, they smiled so sweetly to me as I went out for spot of mindful walking.
On my walk I spotted three beautiful blackberry bushes sitting straightforwardly by the side of the road.
That’s the thing about plants and flowers. They don’t care who sees them. The flower is equal. It has no preference. It hides nothing of its beauty and lets it flow frankly out.
I don’t know if you have ever picked blackberries, or remember seeing someone do it, but its quite lovely you know. When the berries are ripe and just ready for picking, they literally fall into your hand. You reach over and give it a little feel–very gently mind and If the time is right, tah dah! No pulling of twisting or labour. They tumble into your hand like a dream.
As you work your way around the blackberry bush, feeling its treasures, you could so happen to approach a blackberry before its time. You feel for the give, that tumbling looseness that means it is ready. but it doesn’t come away so easily.
As I moved my way around I noticed that if I picked patiently, approaching each berry with gentleness and intent, I was able to feel very easily which fruits were ready and which weren’t.
My visit with the blackberries reminded me of the draftsman in Chuange Tzu’s poem (which I’ll gladly show you next) When the time is right, the blackberry falls from the tree, having had all the time it needed to grow.
For Chuanges poem suggests that patience and time make a nice alternative to force and rage. That sometimes life can be easy.
That’s not to to say, necessarily (although, perhaps it might be nice) that one should sit around all day, taking ones ease and waiting for the blackberries to come knocking at the door of their own accord. After all, the fruit is in the oven as we speak because I put out a hand and offered the blackberries a ride home. Zero intention never a blackberry pudding did make!
But it is to say that the picking felt easy and the effort felt effortless and the fruits were equally delicious.
Thank you for reading with me, I hope this blog gave you a little food for thought.
“Chu’i the draftsman
could draw more perfect circles
freehand than with a compass.
His fingers brought forth
spontaneous forms from nowhere.
His mind was meanwhile free and
without concern with what he was doing.
No application was needed
his mind was perfectly simple
and knew no obstacle.
So, when the shoe fits,
the foot is forgotten.
When the belt fits,
the belly is forgotten.
And when the heart is right,
for and against are forgotten.
No drives, no compulsions,
no needs, no attractions;
when your affairs are under control
you are a free man.
Easy is right.
Begin right and you are easy –
continue easy and you are right.
The right way to go easy
is to forget
the right way
and forget that
the going is easy.