The Call of the Peony

As I stood in line at the grocery store, an inner feeling prompted me to turn around. My eye caught a most inviting sight: bundles and bunches of peonies. Though my basket was full, I left the line and grabbed a bouquet of the delicate pink blossoms which beckoned to me nonsensically. A memory of summer in the Midwest flashed through my mind; I saw ants climbing through the flowering bushes that stood along the edge of my parents’ garden and recalled the exquisite smell they exuded. Did I need more flowers at that particular moment in the grocery store? No. Did I follow their urgent call for purchase anyway? Yes.

The peonies birthed themselves slowly over several days at a retreat gathering of T’ai Chi Chih (TCC) practitioners. Attendees mentioned privately to me messages the flowers evoked: being Home; an imperceptible but ongoing (unstoppable) unfolding of each bud in its own time; the remembrance of essence and ease; an invitation to trust and rest in one’s own unique expression through the nourishing support of the Chi; No Rushing.

Justin Stone would occasionally say, “Follow the pointing arrow,” and then would add provocatively, “Most people miss it.” When I heard Justin’s invocation, I often felt destabilized (in the best of ways, such a good Zen Way.) “What exactly is the pointing arrow?” I would ask myself. “How will I know if I miss it?” Maybe the pointing arrow is both less and more than we know at the time.

The urge to turn my head at the grocery store, to which I responded, and subsequent witnessing of a peony kaleidoscope spoke unmistakably to me that day. Upon purchasing the flowers, I had no thought of their effect. It was only later, when others shared with me, I came to know their broader impact. There is no personal credit to be gained at such times. Just the listening and responding without knowing is enough. Isn’t this reassuring?

“Listen,” calls the Peony, “Step into the unknown.”