teachers come in many forms

noticing leads to curiosity leads to astonishment leads to connection

May 13, 2024

these fading beauties were a robust pink a week ago.

dear sojourners,

if your are a new follower or subscriber, thank you for joining the journey! when i start writing posts, i am never sure where they will lead and this one was no different. so off we go… the riotous colored Dogwoods outside my abode are finally fadingfadingdfading. oh my they have been glorious the last six or so weeks. their showing-off was astonishing this Spring. i am not the only one who has noticed according to my informal astonishment survey. a daily astonishment survey. hmmm. i might answer the phone for that one.

a “quick” google search of “Dogwoods” (and yes, i went down a rabbit hole) reveals that the pink and white blossoms that keep drawing me into conversation are actually modified leaves known as bracts. the purpose of these bracts is to protect the flower. wait, where is the flower? it is toward the center of the bract, but tiny. fortunately the pollinators know where to find them. whew. then tiny seeds cluster in the center providing food for the locals as they ripen: swallows, thrushes, and assorted other birds. chipmunks, squirrels, deer, bears and more seek them out as the seasons flow from spring into summer into autumn into winter. those tiny berries source of nourishment for animals small and large. i had no idea.

Dogwood is native to north america and there are several “varieties.” of course we have hybridize them to appeal to our sense of what looks “best” in our stylized, organized, weed-ridden gardens. where i live in the pacific nw, as one wanders along local trails and wilderness, they can still be spotted growing free. from mid March to late May their whipped-cream whites and lip-luscious pinks wink between the partial-shade understory as Douglas Firs and Red Cedars climb high toward the sky. i’d like to think that color is there for our human enjoyment, but i know it serves the larger ecology of the region.

the Indigenous Peoples of north america discovered many of the benefits Dogwood offered, including using the bark for medicinal purposes, deriving a bitter bitter tea that aided in calming fevers, among others symptoms.

the durable and hard wood has/is used for tools such as shuttles for weaving and handles of chisels and mauls. (and for golf club heads…can’t forget the golfers, now can we?) during the (un)civil war, when quinine was in short supply (quinine being used to treat malaria and fevers) Dogwood medicine was a substitute, as well as providing a tincture to make an astringent to keep wounds from bleeding out. there is more! all that yummy stuff you discover when you are curious. but i will spare you.

all this is to say Slowing Down (which i mentioned in my last post, Failure|Fall|Wonder|Awe,) can lead to noticing can lead to wonder can lead to being astonished. those two Dogwood trees that were part of the garden-scaping of my new abode(s), bare-twigged when i arrived in november waiting to leaf (bract?) out this Spring…i didn’t know what type of tree they were. i wondered and waited. it wasn’t until the bracts displayed those tiny baby-berries that i recalled my acquaintance with my previous neighborhood Dogwoods. tree identification is not my strong suit. the “aha” of recognition fluttered my heart.

Dogwood from the old neighborhood, may 14, 2021.

this sunday is mother’s day in the usa. thirty-three years ago i received a hummingbird feeder from my almost three year old daughter and her dad. it may have been a sunny day? cloudy? rainy? i know we didn’t have a Dogwood planted in our garden and i don’t remember if the ones in the neighborhood were extra-extravagant that year. thirty-three years ago i was more aware of the little being inside me who was due in 13 days. 13 days. my thinking: i can keep working for at least another week. 13 days. still time to get a few more things done before this second child arrives. 13 days until…uh oh! my water breaks! and my best mother’s day gift arrives two, three hours later. all the rest is pretty hazy memory-wise.

my former spouse tells the welcome-to-the-world story with great flourish, though over time with the addition of a few tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. a heart now full of living fully, overflowing. call to my mum to hurry over to watch our daughter. the rush to the hospital, the gasp by the ER nurse as she checks to see how dilated i am. code something urgent she calls out. my OBG arriving to “catch” our fella “just in time.” my son rolls his eyes with each telling, though he is a tender-hearted soul.

my Dogwood fella, bloomed into my life on mother’s day and his birthday rolls around on mother’s day again this year. 33. a quick internet search and you can find turning 33 is significant…or not. 3 and 3. 3 is my special number. always has been. he was “supposed” to be a gemini. my taurus fella, grounded. taurus like his grandma. rooted like a Dogwood. came when he was supposed to. quick quick. and then leaned into life at his own pace. teaching me even when i wasn’t ready to learn. our kids as our teachers. it was difficult to accept those early lessons. hard to take them in through my own roots. now i am grateful.

Thank you for reading following dandelion seeds. This post is public so feel free to share it.

another something about Dogwoods: they are fairly “quiet” when it comes to mythology and folklore (despite those showy bracts.) a few places say it symbolizes rebirth and resurrection (but doesn’t everything in the Spring season?) don’t we all go through various births, deaths, and rebirths in our lives if we are open to what is offered? my fella, though a quiet sort now, wasn’t a smooth road. like the bark of a Dogwood, rough in those years leading up to adulthood. on the “spectrum” they say these days. confused is what we all were early on. not sure what tectonic plates were positioned beneath the landscape we were navigating. lots of tremors as plates shifted. deaths of expectations. rebirths with expanded understanding. those lessons to be learned. a bitter tea not ready to be digested until the heart was ready to receive. the gift of a rearview mirror. and please don’t misunderstand me, because when the ground was stable there was joy and joy and joy that came with each small expansion. each lesson learned.

that old neighborhood had an assortment of Dogwoods. last year the ones at the highest elevation (about 800’) never bloomed. i waited and waited. an expectation. it felt like friends who stood me up. end of May, then June. nothing. there was another Dogwood in the neighborhood that is tucked in a shady spot between two houses. a creamy, dreamy white. it bloomed late every year. well into june. even early july a few bloom-leaves would linger. a neurodivergent tree? or least one who knows how to be their self in their environment. who my fella has become. yes, i’m going to gush a bit, because i love who he (and his sister) have become. we learned to lean into the teachings of life. are still learning. we are all students and teachers.

we gathered as a family on this day to celebrate my son and on what we call “mother’s day;.” my daughter, son, former spouse, two significant bonus lovelies who are important to the landscape we call family. for this i am grateful. without openness to those “deaths” and possibility of rebirths (i’m speaking for myself here and i think i can safely assume for my former spouse) it could have gone sideways so many ways. again, grateful.

“mother’s day” is a manufactured holiday…this i readily acknowledge. the maw of capitalism ignoring the complex archetypal and mythological images. roses, brunch and chocolate is so much easier settle on the tongue of the consumer. this “day” is painful for many for an abundance of reasons. there are numerous resources (podcasts, Substacks, articles, etc) to support those who would rather the day not exist. i was fortunate in having a loving and mostly resolved relationship with my mother. i was honored to support her through the final years of her life with Alzheimer’s, difficult as it was. if you are interested in resources, please reach out.

what stirs for you around these manufactured holidays of “honoring” someone in your life you may or may not want to honor? how do you filter the advertisements and messages in a way that keeps you from “buying into the shoulds" of the system? how do you choose to honor the folks that are important to you?

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and i appreciate that my kiddos appreciate my imperfect mothering of them. and whew, they made it adulthood! and, whew, we are all still talking and gathering and learning about and growing from each others’ messiness, our entangled landscapes more nutrient rich because we have been willing to add our own compost to the soil. may it continue to be so.

i have been wanting to do something in the craft and art arena. use my hands so i can get out of my head. i signed up for a weaving class through WildCraft Studio a few months ago and it finally came to pass on thursday. what fun! i was totally inept. this is okay. i learned what a weft and a warp is. two kinds of weave (straight and box) and a couple of ways to play with materials. i brought home a small hand loom and my incomplete project that my best intentions tell me i “will complete.” an Ocean theme. or a tangle of threads. but, as

Natalie Serber

said in her last post, life is a big, beautiful problem, learning something new is good for our brain.

my partial weaving. if when i finish it, i’ll post a pic!

i also retreated to the north oregon coast for a three night retreat. ah. big exhale (i did remember to occasionally inhale.) every time i go it is medicine for my body, mind, soul, spirit, parts of me yet to be named. i saw an Eagle up close. so many birds. sea stars. and the clouds the evening i arrived were astonishment worthy. oh, and something that i understand is not rare, but was a first more me, Velella velella (by-the-wind sailors) had washed up on shore by the thousands)…a blue-green fading to white translucent carpet of Hydrozoa (wee Jellyfish.) i would say their concentric circle patterns and entwining with kelp is what took first my breath away, but it was the smell…think hanging out behind your favorite seafood restaurant when the garbage hasn’t been picked up for a few days. these wee dead Beings asked me to write a poem, which i’ll post at the bottom.

north oregon coast, april/may 2024. photo by anne richardson

to retreat. to be able to walk for long stretches on a Coast that is open to the public. to be offered the perspective that Ocean offers…that with every wave that tongues the shore, the sea-scape changes. to never take anything for granted. every visit i make i notice something different. the way Sand is dune-ing or Water time-elapsing Rocks. or number of Crows bothering the Gulls ebbs and flows. if i go with expectations, i will be disappointed. if i go to be a part of, then i am, well, a part of that moment’s Coastal unfolding. is there a place you go the step away from your day-to-day routines? of course, define what ”place” is for you.

poetry unbound, hosted by Pádraig Ó Tuama has a short series on Poems as Teachers devoted to poems with wisdom to offer about conflict and humanity. you can listen to the Podcast through Substack or your favorite podcast link. to step away from the 24/7 news cycle and listen deep into what these poets wrote addressing conflict calls us to check in with our hearts.

in my last post i shared about wonder and awe and attending Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s Literary Arts event. it is now available to listen to on the podcast, Literary Arts Archive Project. so many gems, but here are a couple:

“When wonder is a practice, you feel less alone.”

“Everyday ask yourself: what are five things on the planet you are curious about?”

when i say curiosity and wonder and awe and amazement leads to us being connected, this is, in part, what i mean. i do hope you will take time to listen. she is an absolute delight.

what astonished you today? perhaps you are in the midst of something difficult. is there room for a wee bit of astonishment? it’s okay if you don’t feel it. perhaps tomorrow. or the next day. when you are ready. in the meantime the aurora borealis stirred a lot of awe, wonder, and amazement in my neck of the woods. i tried to spy it with my little i(Phone) camera, but was not “in just the right spot.” oh well. a bit envious, but other’s photos have brought joy. i am gladly “settling” for Dogwoods, the culinary Thyme and Fuschia that were gifted to me, a wee painting of an Ocean seascape, and the abundance of Beauty that surrounds me.

in gratitude,

anne

ps: the poem!