The Slow Growth of Meaning

Morning Thoughts #166

It’s okay that your appreciation lagged; that’s just how the slow growth of meaning goes sometimes. When everything was contained in the moment, your raw measurements could only take into account the fact of the tight confinement! The numbers were not up for debate; all one could do was to wait for the proof of their precision to break down into soil.

And so it inevitably does and begins to surround the small everything of a past moment, cordoning it off into seed. See it grow, the facts buried down, dwarfed by the context shooting out greens and blossoms. What once culminated as a seed now enjoys a lush afterlife! Blooming finally into epilogues of heaven.

And who says a good memory isn’t a limited form of heaven? Life is lost one moment at a time - each successive passing springing a little potential piece of heaven into your head. Meaning that: there is value in looking back fondly; it too is a kind of harvesting.

There is the feast that bombards our senses; this is the spring of youth, the rushing fountain of it. The meaning of it all is a later harvest, less immediately sensual. Later, that is the time for the fields in their totality to be tasted rather than their individual fruits, which were gorged one memorable dinner at a time. The harvest of a distinct totality, of an era, by the moon of the day’s difference, this too is worth celebrating!

Let us first feast on what is grown by the sun, joyous in the knowledge that later we will likewise do the same for what is grown by the moon! Moon harvester, there is no shame in your periodic nostalgia, so long as it inspires your spirit to leap forth in expanded upon song, singing of meaning!