I haven’t read Michelle Obama’s book yet, but I’ve picked up little snippets here and there, and think I have a general sense of the story behind the title—“Becoming.” One quote from the book that seems to pop up in front of me with some regularity, and which I like a lot because it rings true, is this:
“For me, becoming isn’t about arriving somewhere or achieving a certain aim. I see it instead as forward motion, a means of evolving, a way to reach continuously toward a better self. The journey doesn’t end.”
Recently I’ve found myself relaxing into the idea that the most significant elements of a life well-lived are more akin to practices, like yoga, than to achievements or events, like running races. Relationships, passion projects, and life goals, which seem on the surface like ends unto themselves, are lately revealing themselves to be works in progress—moving parts of an ongoing process, or evolution, as I live my life. It’s not that these life-components aren’t important and worthy of my care and attention—they are. But I’m noticing that when I pan out and focus on my whole journey, instead of lingering too long at any one point in particular, it’s a lot easier to spot and appreciate the joy along the way.
Today, during a sunbreak between downpours, I went outside to look for some fresh peonies to bring into the house, now that the ones I cut last week are dropping their petals. But I couldn’t find any open flowers; some of our plants have already cycled through their season, and all of the others (there are many) are right on the verge of blooming, laden with tightly-balled buds whose colors just hint at the bright, fragrant flowers that lie tucked, waiting, inside. After a moment of disappointment I caught myself: What a mistake it would be, as I wander around this garden growing its way into summer, to regret the peony bloom that’s not here today but that may come tomorrow, and miss entirely the beauty in that flower’s becoming.
Today, these beautiful peonies-in-process are my joy. #joyinplace
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