Who Among Us Does Not Know


Garden Blooms © 2021 Lee Anne Morgan

We have a choice to walk with our better angels or to walk with anger, which can, and does, create suffering.  Having tuned out the material world this past year, I chose another path so that my heart and spirit could survive the mainstream world’s anger, despair, and violence. I plunged instead into what always calls me to be a better human being: one whose sensitive heart looks and listens more deeply to understand so that true compassion blossoms, one who makes time for others to soothe and nurture, and one who revels in caressing our Mother Earth with a camera and words.

Who among us does not know that our free will allows us to walk and talk outside of perceived norms, watering seeds that fashion peace, love, and joy? Too sweet? Too sentimental? Magical thinking? No, it is none of these. Our minds and hearts contain seeds of anger, violence, despair, joy, happiness, and contentment. It is the seed we chose to water that immerges from our subconscious mind into our consciousness. Then, we act, speak, negatively without compassion or—with simple, sincere lovingkindness. I strive to be aware of what my mind is pushing upward from its storehouse of seeds into the light of day and water what is wholesome. The mindfulness practice I follow is not easy. Watering seeds of lovingkindness in all its forms, however, has gradually, gently prevailed more than it once did.

I also water seeds of joy and beauty through my images and words. Hopefully, I’ve created a lovely tableau for you to stop, enjoy, and listen to. Matsuo Bashō, a Zen poet, wrote: The temple bell stops, but the sound keeps coming out of the flowers. May you hear the deep, resonant tones of the monastery bell in these images, for who among us does not know our deepest mystery within.

An unplanned stroll through a farmer’s market on an early Saturday morning in June flooded my camera with startling beauty and long-awaited color!

In Full Song © 2021 Lee Anne Morgan
As I Open © 2021  Lee Anne Morgan

On an early morning walk to the Riverfront, I found an extravaganza of peonies in full bloom. Eager to capture an intimate view of these blossoms, the camera slipped, and my focus wavered. When I uploaded the image, I decided I liked its music: soft, yielding yet still beautiful in its unique song. Accidents happen. Sometimes delightfully so!

Peony Extravaganza © 2021 Lee Anne Morgan
Oops! © 2021 Lee Anne Morgan

A newly hatched robin’s eggshell presented itself in the middle of the road during that same walk. The first image reflects what I encountered on the road. Though fragile, I couldn’t resist taking it home for my Mother Earth altar upon which tiny bits of Nature live. The delicate, blue eggshell remains on the altar in a bed of rose petals.

Robin Eggshell No. 1 © 2021 Lee Anne Morgan
Robin Eggshell No. 2 © 2021 Lee Anne Morgan

My love for roses dates to a time and place long ago. The life of a rose exemplifies how youth and beauty fall away as its graceful, short life unfolds into detritus as we do, too. Though impermanence applies to every living thing in the cosmos, the rose symbolizes our body’s limited time and the eternal joy of our spirit. The scent of the rose lives on.

Rosebud © 2021 Lee Anne Morgan
Unfurling © 2021 Lee Anne Morgan

The Birch Tree at the Riverfront could not be ignored. Her smooth bark appeared to me like lines of computer programming code. Perhaps they are! However, I also saw a rose in the curly, papery bark. This is how I see: things not there that are.

How I See © 2021  Lee Anne Morgan

My apartment is almost wholly an art studio at this point. Amidst the work tables, easels, paints, brushes, and cameras, fresh flowers are placed about to capture an image at a magical moment. This image was one of those moments: a hand-thrown glazed vase and ordinary, extraordinary red flowers.

Red Flower Reflection © 2021 Lee Anne Morgan

The last of nine orchids on two stems remained. The petal was beautiful and bold even in the face of dying a graceful death. She was Woman and Goddess. She was sensual. She had O’Keefe in her. She had some of me, too. She was Sacred, and she was Feminine. She was mystery and magic. She will return.

The Sacred Feminine © 2021 Lee Anne Morgan

Thank you for visiting. Thank you for your comments, always! Look and listen deeply to what you care about and even those things you believe you do not. When you do, the birth of understanding begins a journey filled with compassion.

Water your good seeds.

In so doing, we can help save the world. 

Listen for the sound of the monastery bell coming out of all Nature.

Old Tibetan Singing Bowl © 2020 Lee Anne Morgan

Body, speech, and mind in perfect oneness. I send my heart along with the sound of this bell. May all of you who listen awaken from forgetfulness and transcend the path of anxiety and sorrow. ~ Zen Master, Thich Nhat Hanh

Who among us does not know these things?

In Lovingkindness ~



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