Seeing it causes me to stop in my tracks every time.
As in, “Wow…there is nothing more beautiful than this moment before me…”
Wisteria makes me breathe IN. I slow down.
Then I stop.
In my world, that’s the Wisteria Effect.
Because Wisteria drips…
… and because it’s lavishly, luxuriously lavender.
Wisteria seems to be lit from within. Maybe you, too, have noticed that its loveliness — its natural color and light — seem to say, “Here’s my lavender heart, pouring out to you.”
And there’s (yet) another thing.Wisteria pours down, even as hundreds and hundreds of its tiny lavender petals lift up to the sky. Even with all this lifting up, wisteria pours down, and down, and more down.
Ahhhh. Wisteria is a waterfall of uplifting reassurance that “down” can be a very good thing.
And here’s a mystery for you…
It’s SO airy. How does it DO that?
To look at this lavender wonder, it’s almost as if nothing-at-all is holding it together, yet there it is, all beautifully whimsical, petals practically perched in mid-air.
To acquire such lightness of being, wisteria must have feathery, floaty ideas about itself, don’t you think?
It must have plenty of room for everything, it must breathe deeply, it must certainly have the ability to suspend thought and just BE. All while dripping from a thick tree trunk, which is rooted down, down, down into mother earth.
Maybe Wisteria is the perfect advice for humans. Perhaps something like this.
1. Don’t hold back on your natural self expression. It’s a beautiful thing ’cause it’s YOU. And it is uplifting to those around you.
2. Hang more. :–) Chill out more. Relax more. Never mind what you’re hanging ON. You’re the centerpiece of that Italian sofa, that beach chair, that Porsche, that herd of muddy children you know.
3. Lavender is a beautiful color. But whatever your color is, wear it often. People will probably tell you that you’re glowing — that you’re practically lit from within.
Today, I’m sharing a story about how I accidentally accomplished something on my bucket list. I ran through an exit gate while looking the other way. The hood of my car is scratched up, and one windshield wiper is a mess, but let’s have a good laugh about how we never expect what “getting what we want” includes!
It seems to be a growing fad these days to call someone a narcissist, or declare they are toxic.
Political name-calling is similar—we assign politicians and voters to categories, and brush them off as if they are unintelligent, inferior, or even worthless.
By labeling others, we miss their humanity. We gloss over their struggle, their best effort at dealing with life. We dismiss them.
We do to them what we believe they are doing to others.
Look past a label, and in the soft light of day, there stands a person like you or like me, coping as best they can. At the end of the day, no friend, parent, or lover making conscious choices intends to be mean, or to ignore, or to embellish. There is always more to the story.
If we label others, then for sure we label ourselves. We trap ourselves into believing we are less than. Or not enough. Or we don’t give ourselves the time and forgiveness to work through our “stuff.” Maybe, if we stopped accusing others of narcissism, we could forgive ourselves for those moments when we were narrow-minded, inconsiderate, or afraid.
When it comes to labels, nobody wins.
So, my dear people, I suggest we peer a little deeper into ourselves to investigate a need to separate ourselves from others by tacking them with a label filled with disdain or scorn.
It is my wish that you view this video and take it to heart.