The restoration of the flower beds shown in my previous post yielded this surprising beauty a couple of months after, in late October, a time long past when this sort of thing is what’s happening in that particular flower bed:
I have not seen cornflowers in this bed since it was full of them the summer before my son was a senior in high school. He is now 27. But the great digging and weeding and feeding the friend I affectionately call “my garden accomplice” and I lavished on it this year and the Indian summer weather we had in October must have awakened some long dormant seed.
This beautiful blue swirl about to open assures me it’s never too late to bloom, no matter how long the impulse to do so has been waiting. And reminds me of a time in the first months of eating this way when I was sitting at my own table and felt that blooming in myself, and knew to trust it. Here is how that moment of epiphany began to swirl open its petals to the warm light of continued healing:
“One physiological example I was quite aware of in the first months of the diet was a time Dear Friend A had come over for a visit and Dear Friend B also stopped by for the duration of a meeting he had dropped his daughter off at. It was evening, and even Dear Friend C had called before Dear Friend A arrived, so that I had not finished my dinner when she arrived, and was sitting at the table with her while finishing it, when Dear Friend B also arrived. (I sometimes refer to this phenomenon as the “airport terminal effect.” The house can be quiet for days; then all of a sudden a handful of people from distant points converge in my space, usually calling and arriving simultaneously.) To sit there at the table and be able to eat AND talk AND smile interchangeably without flushing or having acute facial nerve pain felt like a miracle. But it was very real. Ironically, as I was noticing this shift, the subject of the conversation was the aches, pains and health troubles of the other two friends, and how getting older just brings it all on. While I, supposedly the “sickest,” sat there noticing this remarkable improvement, which I mentioned, though the significance of it can only be truly felt by the person who has experienced the acute pain when trying to laugh or smile in conversation, or uncontrollable flushing and pain just as the result of the nerve stimulation in the face from the effort of chewing. What I did not mention, or know how to mention, was this intuitive flash of compassionate knowing, that I had, at age 52, fundamentally changed the direction my physiology was going, just through the way I was eating, and so instead of being able to commiserate with them, I was certain at some cell level I was recuperating and healing, not sliding toward an inevitable demise. Didn’t want to gloat, that wouldn’t have been the point of it anyway, but it felt so profoundly true all I could do was sit in myself and respect the awareness, as encouragement for it to grow.”
So trust yourself when you start to feel good. Even if it doesn’t show that much on the outside. And stay with this way of eating. We are all works in progress. There is no statute of limitations on when dormancy might open into bloom.
Here is the same blue cornflower continuing to open on November 2. Despite the fact it had been snowed on the week before.