Capacity
Ranunculus asiaticus: Bloomingdale hybrid. Capacity for petals—more than I can count this morning.
The Ranunculus Asiaticus, Bloomingdale variety, is an amazing flower. It blooms prolifically. A small nut of a bud becomes a full blown beauty, treading breezes and the onslaught of scavengers with equal grace. I snapped this quick shot of a bloom a few years ago in front of a business office a few blocks away. Keeping it handy is a reminder of the pleasure of that moment.
I am reminded of it this morning when I think about people around me who have a similar ability for prodigious blooming, for maintaining many points of contact seemingly simultaneously. Many, many years ago, I was there. Not today. Today, I am much more like the buttercup, a simple five-petaled field flower, a forebearer of this magnificent pink beauty. I find my capacity has dipped, slipped back to that of my ancestral form. I find that I can focus on only a few things at any given moment, a few bright petals at a time.
And so with the daily pressures, stresses, of confinement, I am becoming thankful for the quiet space in my home-cell. It offers me the time and ability to focus. I’ve not been spread thin in a while. I may feel like I accomplish less in a day, but what I do accomplish is a bit deeper and richer than what I could do on days when I had dozens of tasks to check off my list. And on days when multiple tasks challenge me now, I am more exhausted by them. There’s no more gliding and glossing over things quickly. This enforced leisure has altered my approach to accomplishing anything. Everything.
At times I feel like I’m doing less, and likely I am doing fewer things, but now I can do them with fuller attention.
I deeply admire those relatives and friends who have the capacity for multiple points of contact, of connection. Really, I am envious. But I must let go of that dream, and I must live in the space that is here and the moment that is now as I lean into gratitude—gratitude for this capacity I am living in.
My sister once said to me when I was recovering from a stroke, just focus on one thing a day, just one thing, and do that. Such a beautiful gift for me then, and a gift for me now, too.