As children we did not know the name for the winged shapes let loose from maple tree varieties in autumn. The shapes swirled down from above and we picked them up. With our small fingers we split the seeds and used the stickiness within to attach the samaras to our nose tips. Or we tossed a handful of samaras skyward to watch their slow spiral back to earth. Helicopters we called them. We giant bipeds by comparison to the small seed vehicles put these seeds through conditions adverse and benign but did them no favors toward assurances of a second existence. In the days to follow, the green (and sometimes red) samaras would lose their color and flexibility, becoming brown and thin, brittle and fragile… an end as humus in their futures.
We humans know too the adverse and benign conditions imposed upon us by life experiences. We know the joyful skyward spirals and the falls back down. We know the jabs to our noses. We pick ourselves up, sometimes alone and sometimes with help from others. We too want to grow beyond our seed state. Oh, what lofty trees with wide crowns we could become. Bright green. Beautiful. Going out on a branch for others. Sharing nutrients through our roots. Providing shade on hot days. We know too samsara. The word might be as familiar or unfamiliar to us as samara; however, we know it still.
From the ancient Sanskrit language, samsara denotes “wandering,” “cycles,” “swirling” and “flowing about.” The maple seeds do this; we do it too.
Situations arise for us in which we feel as if we are just swirling around without forward progress or without an increase in joy of our careers or relationships. We may believe we are no better directed in our lives than are the samaras aloft on breezes. However, we have skillful means beyond what evolution gave maple trees. We are not subject to the vagaries of the winds.
We can find our ground and our growth in many nurturing ways:
- asking someone to meet for coffee “just because”
- walking in nature
- playing sports
- visiting with family and friends
- listening to elders and mentors
- learning new things
- reading a favorite book
- watching a favorite movie
- volunteering or working in a job that positively affects other lives
- tossing a handful of samaras into the air and delighting in their slow spirals
The list can go on and on as long as it contains those pursuits that grow our spirit. If we return to the metaphor of the samara becoming a tree, we sense that we can never control the weather. However, we can control our seed, our soil, our sprout, and our skyward growth. We can rise onward and upward.
