The other day when I was at Mom's, I stopped at a neighborhood grocery store, the kind that once was in many city neighborhoods and that we see so rarely these days. There were a few little things I wanted to pick up for some cooking I wanted to do and I thought it might be fun to bop around a funky little city shop rather than a larger chain store. It was.
I picked up a beautiful shallot bulb.
The next morning when I came downstairs, this long-haired fellow greeted me.
I have never seen a shallot sprout so quickly with so much green in a single night's growth.
I decided to skip the recipe and ended up bringing the shallot home with me.
The green sprouts have added no length since the first night.
Patterns of growth are so curious to me. I come across this in my work all the time. I may think a congregation is ready for a step or a next step and then discover there is a lot of work to be done before moving on. Other times, I think they might be stuck and suddenly they spring ahead to a place I'd not imagined possible.
Sometimes it even seems to happen over night .
Creating Space: Three Months of Showing Up for What's Showing Up is a daily writing practice. Turns out that a lot of this writing explores the landscape of grief. My mother died shortly before I began this writing, and this is what I'm thinking about most of the time these days.
Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.
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