When The Eleagnus Bloom

I step outside my carefully protected world, bare feet shrinking away from cold deck planks and shiver. Inside, rugs and insulated walls keep out the nip of fall, but now I invade nature and she gives quick reminders of her power.

Wind cuts through my thin shirt and reminds me of my jacket in the car. I curl icy toes and for once miss my shoes. Summer has faded.

Colors in my garden have streamlined into a uniform pattern. Mostly greens and browns now, only few golden spots remain where stubborn Zinnia refuse to give in. Mums bloom in warm reds and yellows and a few pansies smile between sage plants and grasses. The heavy rains have brought thick-headed mushrooms to the surface and their fleshy smell lingers in the garden next to the heavy, bitter odor of Chrysanthemums.

So what is this sweetness which assaults me then? What lurks on the wind lightly, sneaks into my awareness and makes me crave honey? I step farther into the chill autumn air and turn toward the Eleagnus hedge. Yes, there it is.

Tiny blooms, almost invisible to the eye, hide under silvery leaves and exhale fragrance. The sweetness assails me. It makes me dream of love and abundance. It makes my world spin.

I drink my fill of this fragrance. With nostrils wide, I breathe in all I can hold, again and again. I know this bloom is short lived and I must savor it. For moments, nothing else matters.

Living Samurai means living in the moment. While some believe, a Samurai must deny his or her feelings, this is not so. Right now, this very moment, I am filled with joy. I drink deeply from this joy for it is not permanent. A Samurai knows that all emotion is fleeting. A Samurai feels deeply but does not linger...does not linger.

Living in the moment allows us to be present and prepared for all eventualities. It gives a Samurai a fighting edge and it will give us decisiveness. If we do not linger, our thoughts and feelings are not rooted in the past and we are free to act appropriately, as needed.

For my patients, I feel deeply. Their well-being is my responsibility and their comfort is my duty. When they are distraught, I sense their pain. Their sadness and that of their families grieves me. Yet, I do not carry their grief away from the hospital. I am able to go home to my child and be fully present with him when my work day is done.

When the Eleagnus bloom, I find moments to breathe in the sweetness. When my son smiles, I take in the warmth of his joy. Were I to miss these powerful emotions, I would lack the strength of spirit to live my life effectively.

Living Samurai allows me the depths of emotion I need to color my world.