A butterfly entered my vision during meditation tonight. The usual star of the show, she danced from flower to flower drinking the sweet nectar of honey-yellow zinnias.
As I watched, I received a closeup perspective of her proboscis – the long appendage butterflies use to eat and drink. I observed how deeply she reached into the center of the flower taking what she needed before fluttering along to the next.
Without warning, the flower began to move – opening up layers and layers and layers of itself to reveal the intricacy and complexity of its lifeform firsthand. Its stigmas and anthers and filaments exploded into a symphony of color and movement and texture. I watched the cradled seeds loosen and lift to create patterns and equations, almost as if they bore a blueprint of their own.
For a moment, it was as if I took on the energy of this flower. I felt its petals open and stretch to the sky, soaking in energy and nutrients from the sun. I experienced its roots extending deep, deep, deep into the ground, drawing up all the water required to survive. I became its sturdy stalk, swaying with the wind and rain, rooted and remaining.
I became fully aware of this flower’s singular purpose: to be a source of provision.
To provide.
To give and give and give of itself for the benefit of another, not out of duty and obligation, but out of high honor.
I realized that all that was asked of the flower was to first receive.
Receive the sun and the soil, the water and the fertilizer, the spring and the summer.
That receiving, strengthened.
That simply being, created.
That one of the highest honors bestowed upon anything is to be prepared to help prepare the way.
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As I came out of my meditation, my concept of what it means to be a “provider” was forever altered.
In life, there are situations where we give more than we take – times when so many things rest upon our shoulders, and we can’t get a break. Moments of loss where we are out of time, out of ideas, out of resources, out of words.
Yet, we were never asked to provide alone. To produce water from an empty well, bread from an empty basket, love from a broken heart.
We were only ever asked to receive. To stand in the covering of the first – the ultimate – Source, trusting and expectant. To become aware of the reservoirs of resilience buried deep within that sustain us, invigorate us, motivate us, enable us. To remember that, by nature, we were intelligently designed to be exactly enough.
To drink deeply.
To know our cup runneth over.
From there, our providership can take on new life. No longer is it a means to an end, but a sacred exchange. A resource that keeps replenishing. A gift that keeps on giving. An honor and a privilege to stand in place knowing exactly who and what we are.