Snowdrops Of New Beginnings

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Snowdrops Of New Beginnings

Every ending is a new beginning.

We hear that quite often.

Endings are not easy. And nor are beginnings.

Whereas most endings are quite painful, I like to think that beginnings are more beautiful than endings.

Endings come with a sort of ache. Be it a headache, a heartache, an ache — of a certain sort.

Coping with the mere reality that there is something which there is no more. 

What one has gotten used to is — no more.

All there is — is this mere fleeting moment. Point zero. The beginning. A clean slate. A clear soil and it’s up to you, what you plant. 

Beginnings are like snowdrops. 

There is a certain excitement about them.

They pop-up from the snow and open up to the world.

A garland of the miracle of life. 

Their blooms heralds the spring of limitless possibilities. 

Snowdrops are beautiful. They don’t last for long.

And so are new beginnings. One only takes the opportunity of a beginning once. Gives it their very best shot.

The beginning of a project, of a relationship or of a new path.

A new now.

“Now is where love breathes,” says Rumi.
And I inhale it as I have received and welcomed the snowdrops.
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There is this energy of the new springing under me.

As if there were a well springing from under me.

It’s true.

For now, we have a new entry into the Garden of Roses. One more exquisite and brave soul.

The roses have called him Blunt M — for now. Who knows what name will this character choose for himself? 

The story of this snowdrop is as if the skies split open into the Damascene Rose.

This beautiful new beginning is bringing my Mother — Damascus, back to me. 

Although we are here, amidst Snowdrops, and She is there, amidst Jasmine.

‘tis the Spring season, the season of all beautiful beginnings. ‘tis the season of springing miracles. 

Can you hear that?

Do you hear the song of the spring say

“Do not be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others.
Unfold your own myth?”

We ought to thank Rumi for that and enjoy the lovely month of March.

Let it spring, let it snowdrop with our own myth … indeed.

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