In these darkened days,
I think of the potato
that, left in the pantry,
will grow long white arms
to reach for the light.
There is, of course,
a beauty in reaching.
But today I think of Augusta
who taught me
the beauty of softening—
how the same reaching effect
can be achieved
by focusing on the part
that isn’t reaching,
letting it soften.
Soften, she said.
Soften. And it was as if
I were new in my body.
The effect was the same,
the method the opposite.
I love how I didn’t know
there was something
so beautiful yet to learn
about letting go. I love
these lessons in softening—
how, on this morning I learn again
to relax, to unstrive, to unreach,
to lean into ease, and like a camellia blossom,
in the dark of winter to open,
to find such sweet release.
20 billion atoms from Shakespeare
