It is May and new life is sprouting everywhere. You can smell it, blossoms of jasmine and growth, in the air. Even the dirt in an urban Los Angeles backyard looks rich and fertile after spring rains. The smallest seeds are becoming what their encoded genetic patterns intend them to be. What a wonder it is. An apricot seed becomes an apricot. A redbud blooms into that particular color of purplish rose. How do the tiny seeds know their pattern, their color, their shape, their cycle? How is the becoming guided? Science identified DNA. Mendel’s work gave us insight into genotypes and the pattern arrangements encoded in genetics, but every seed is still life’s miracle, unfolding, releasing, becoming what it already is. And so it is with us, in our becoming.
The Psalmist wrote, “You formed my innermost parts; You knit me together in my mother’s womb.” (Psalm 139, The Bible, King James Version). What a beautiful image, the Creator knitting us into being, bring together an exact, specific shape, in color and form. We are who we always will be. Somewhere in the deepest parts of our being, the form is already known. Our lives are a process of knowing and becoming who we already are. Finally in the autumn of my life, I am trying to be who I always was. To find that person, to open myself in wonder and acceptance, to embrace the fullness of myself, my gifts, my ways, my struggles.
Having lived the quest for money, stability, respect, and acceptance, I came to understand the folly of striving. All that I had intended slipped through my fingers, like sand. My house fell in the Northridge earthquake, my career imploded, my money became simply a string of numbers on a ledger. My ego collapsed. Finally in ‘failure’ I am coming home to myself.