Stand up & Be the Pure White Lily

When we were walking into Carlsheaven this morning, a delicious breeze was blowing through the valley. “This is how I like Summer at its best,” I said to Her. She laughed: “You Master of this Universe…” And less than an hour later as we were climbing back the long staircase huffing and puffing, she laughed again: “Remember what you said when we were walking along the river?” How Summer should be at its best..? Gone was the freshness of the morning breeze, gone the energy I felt while making a photo of this giant lily.

This lily presents its total openness, purity and fragility, stretching its leafs, laying bare its heart in complete surrender to the stitching dryness of this flaming summer sun, the sudden wind flares. And yet it keeps opening up as long as possible. Perhaps now as evening is falling, the chalice has folded back into closure. Like the buds aside, still waiting to open up, grow, mature and withering away, back into invisibility, formlessness. And meanwhile there is only this pure, white affirmation of life ongoing, of fructification and displaying Beauty, no matter in what form.

Most times I fail to Be this Eternal Lily. By not completely and absolutely affirming this all inspiring life. I’m only human, I say, not like Nietzsches Overman. Nothing humanely being alien to me. I could even say that in Latin. But, frankly speaking: it is a lack of courage, of faith full daring to Be this vital fiat from the depth of my heart. Days waisted by millions of complaints, excuses, absences, fake justifications, procrastinations, refusals, you will know it.

What can you do? Good intentions do not work. Self criticism does not work. Exercising to improve my character, change my attitudes? Does not work. I cannot prevent myself from failing my life. Feeling bad or depressed does not change anything. Makes the Burden only heavier. Perhaps I could present myself to you as an experience expert. But I know that my ultimate counseling advice would have to be: Ask into the depth of your soul, into the blackest darkness of your own hell: please, will you Breathe, Thou Infinite Spirit and move Thy Wings, and make me rise and stand like the Lily…

And what if you reply: “Remember what you said about Summer Breeze, walking alongside the river this morning…? Perhaps it would be worth to stop trying to find any way out of such impossible dilemmas. And Remind yourself what it means to Be the Pure White Lily. And breathe in the fresh evening air. Its dark again, good night.