Impact
"It’s my place. The never-ending openness, the clear blue skies, the sounds of nature - these things call to me. "
“One should pay attention to even the smallest crawling creature for these too may have a valuable lesson to teach us.” Black Elk, quoted in A Network for Grateful Living
Impact
by
Kelly Anderson
The Boise foothills, which just two months ago
were a sea of green grasses and glorious flowers, have now turned brown. The
trails are hot and dusty, the grasses have died of thirst, and the few flowers
seem insignificant. Yet, despite these
unappealing elements, most days I find myself walking in the hills. It’s my place. The never-ending openness, the
clear blue skies, the sounds of nature - these things call to me. Time on the winding trails clears my
head. New awareness comes to me across
the vast and rugged landscape. The
rhythm of my footsteps summons words I didn’t know I was looking for.
However, during my summer hill walks, I rarely pay attention to the dull vegetation. My eyes tend to focus on the trail, scanning for snakes. And, when I pause to look around, I generally look at the far off mountains, or interesting clouds. But on a recent hike, I noticed the flowers. The photo from Michael Kroth’s essay, ‘Each Day, Sui Generis ’ , drew my attention to the nearly invisible flora. And the message of the essay encouraged me to appreciate the obscure life along the trail.
The lone flower in Michael’s photo looked a little pathetic, and on my walk I discovered that all of these wildflowers seemed a little pathetic - solitary and nondescript. Looking at them, I thought about how much better it would be if they were a more vibrant color. They could make a bigger impact massed together, or growing in combination with another flower. And then I heard myself! And I stopped. Better for whom? Me? Is it likely these wildflowers exist to please me ?
A little surprised by my ego, I decided to take a closer look at the sad little wildflower. I stepped around a sagebrush and leaned in. And I was startled. The flower was beautiful! The petals, in delicate shades of purple, swirled up and out. Deep in the heart was a stamen wrapped in gold. Atop the long, thin stem, the flower swayed and danced in the light breeze. It was like a ballerina - an elegant, twirling, ballerina. It was exquisite.
As I continued my walk, I encountered more of the flowers. Each was delightful. Each was unique. Inside one, the golden center was striped. Inside another, a bee rested. I thought about my wish for these flowers to “make a bigger impact” and realized, for that bee, and for me in that very moment, the small, easily ignored flower was making a huge impact.
The poet Jericho Brown has said, “An event happening ten minutes or ten years ago matters if anyone can indeed feel the effects of it now.” The seemingly insignificant wildflowers along the dry Polecat Trail speak to that small truth. Like the butterfly effect, even the tiniest living being, or word, or act may matter to someone, somewhere, in some way. And the impact can be surprisingly big.
"Atop the long, thin stem, the flower swayed and danced in the light breeze. It was like a ballerina - an elegant, twirling, ballerina. It was exquisite."
Recommended Resources
The Word of the Day from A Network for Grateful Living
‘Each Day, Sui Generis ’ by Michael Kroth
J ericho Brown: Small Truths and Other Suprises - On Being with Krista Tippett
"...even the tiniest living being, or word, or act may matter to someone, somewhere, in some way. And the impact can be surprisingly big."
