Lessons from a Seed by Page Park
I have a confession: I love spring. The freshness in the air, the greening grass, budding trees and flowers. I am not a huge fan of the extreme weather swings, 75 degrees one day with storms and 30 the next with snow showers, much like what we experienced just last night and today. But one of the things I love most about this season is the unseen.
Think of a seed. The roots grow down first, long before you see any action above ground. Once the roots have done their work, a tiny shoot emerges. But that shoot only appears when the conditions are right: water, minerals, sun.
Our nervous systems work much the same way. When we are in a constant state of stress, our nervous systems respond accordingly. But when we find ways to incorporate stillness into our days, something begins to shift beneath the surface. You cannot see it happening, and then one day you realize you are managing stress more easily, the constant weight of it has lightened, and moments of calm are becoming more frequent.
Some of you may know my story. Twelve years ago my mother died, ten years ago my father, and eight years ago my oldest brother. That season of life was one of deep stress, and my system was struggling to recover. Enter yoga, yoga teacher training and other practices. I began dedicating myself to a regular morning meditation and gratitude practice. The results did not come right away. Like the seed, the roots were growing quietly underground.
Then one day, I rear ended someone getting off the interstate on my way to school. In the past, something like that would have derailed me for the rest of the day and I would have needed sleep just to reset. This time, it did not throw me nearly as far off course. A couple of breaths, a moment to regroup, and I was able to go about my day. The tools I had been tending had taken root.
Remember, you are much like that seed. The quiet practices we return to daily compound over time, and before you know it, you are budding above ground too.
