Toward the Light We Go

The Monstera, or Swiss cheese plant, is our proudest student. Right now, it’s bowing its large head to the blinds and holding her skirt up for a curtsy to the window. We’ll spin her around and she’ll nod the other way, stretching for the sun.

Now there’s two. Discipling her leaves, she brought them up and forced them out. Go on and do this over there, you know the way. And propagated, she did. Pruned and fed, she grew and multiplied. New growth all over the place and mature enough to soon enough separate. You know the way.

Are they in a hurry? Do they bite their nails down to the quick? Picking away at the skin of their lips. Wondering if that spot on her bottom leaf is fatal. It might be fatal. Or do they just sit and breathe and bathe and be.

Sure, she doesn’t have a job to keep or children to lose and she won’t be bothered by what’s on the news. But she still drinks and she eats and she feels good when it’s warm. She dances to our music and changes form.

We’ll wilt if forgotten, a feeling we both know. But is not life more than food and the body more than clothes?

While we wait around for our sad diagnoses, how many more will burst from her bosom? We’ll worry and curl and give up on gladness until we realize too late that not a second is added. Let’s learn from our trees, their knack to obey. And go on toward the Light — we must know the way.