There is Beauty Even on the Darkest Days

My orchid cactus, given to me as a clipping from someone’s yard, is blooming.  For many years I had no idea what I had.  I stuck the clipping in a pot and subsequently forgot about it.  It grew to be unexceptional, spindly, and unattractive by normal standards of beauty.  I kept it only as a reminder of a day in which the Universe obviously had a hand.

Out of the blue I decided to attend a bird walk and luncheon organized by AAUW (American Association of University Women).  It was so long ago I can’t even remember how I knew about the event.  I wasn’t a member of the organization and I didn’t know anything about birds.  It might’ve been a spring day like this, wrapped up in the gloominess of the marine layer.  Feeling trapped.  Itching to be outside even though the sky felt heavy.  Prompted by an article in the local paper perhaps.  I do that sometimes.  Decide suddenly, and without much thought, to do something that’s not part of my normal routine.  Almost as if my body instinctively knows I’ve become staid and need something new to thrive.  Inevitably these bursts of inspiration evolve into something larger, in this case, joining AAUW and for a few years, writing their newsletter.

That day became special for a number of unexpected reasons, most notably the unlikely attendance of my hair stylist’s husband.  But she, a dear friend of 30 years, did not explain this coincidence.  She was not a member of AAUW.   I knew from my many conversations with her that he was an avid outdoorsman and bird watcher so while maybe not an AAUW bird walk, a bird walk would totally be where you’d expect to find him.  As it turned out, the bird guide was a friend of both the organizer and my stylist’s husband.  Still his presence was unexpected.  Bird watching can be leisurely, but only if you sit in your backyard or hike short flat wilderness trails.  This event was neither making it the last place you’d expect to find a man losing a long battle with cancer.

We didn’t talk much beyond the coincidence of our meeting.  He didn’t recognize me, barely even remembered who I was even though he’d been to my house once for dinner.  I’m not sure I added anything to his day other than a good story to tell when he got home.  But that was okay by me.  We were there for reasons other than social.  The moment felt purposeful in ways I couldn’t begin to understand.  It warmed my heart to be there with him, to bear witness to this day that despite his struggles, brought him great joy.

He passed away shortly thereafter and several years later this gangly cactus, a clipping from the yard where the luncheon was held, produced this most exquisite pink flower.  It has bloomed every year since.  And today, despite the lack of sun, the first of seven buds has burst open.  A beacon of light.  A reminder of him, of friendship, of the wonders of life, of living life to its fullest.

These moments of beauty are really what lift my spirits and keep me from falling into despair for too long.  They are everywhere if you pay attention.  A long neglected orchid plant, the kind you buy at the grocery store, sits neglected in my atrium.  A gift I couldn’t quite throw away after the blooms faded.  Rarely watered.  Never transplanted.  Never fertilized.  I cleaned it off and brought it into the house today.  A dozen buds adorn it.  Another sign that even on the darkest days there is possibility.  There is beauty.