A Seed Knows
Lino cut by Jess Goyder
How does a seed, deep underground,
In the fathomless coal-black,
Know where sunlight is?
In that darkness,
How does it know which way is even up?
The thing is; a seed knows.
It trusts.
In Life. Knowing
That there are other forces within us,
Far beyond our conscious reaches
Of power or understanding.
And maybe this is our greater power?
Our power is our Nature.
Perhaps it is only in that very darkest place:
Cornered, no way out.
The rocks of rock bottom,
Buried deep under stone.
In caverns of carbon
And petrified wood.
Where crucibles happen.
With corners where pain
Can only be made fertile
By being felt.
Composting,
In deep, dank, sodding humus.
Where the alchemist can provide her heat.
The right conditions: warmth, water, minerals, nutrients.
Where fire is borne.
Where in the ashes grow the strongest seeds.
Where decay becomes death,
And death becomes life
Again.
A moment's pause.
A seed just knows.
It knows where the light is.
It knows where to grow even when it can’t see it.
It trusts and does it anyway.
And while a seed seeks the light,
Its roots probe the darkness too.
The nourishment of sadness,
And all that lies there,
Deep in the water table.
Because maybe
You cannot do one without the other.
How does a seed, deep underground,
In the coal-black darkness,
Know where sunlight is?
On a slightly more practical note:
This poem was inspired by a client who I honestly don’t know if I will be able to reach yet. Someone buried deep under what currently seems like an insurmountable depression. Though that’s what depression is. By its nature you can’t see a way out.
And our endeavor together is to do two things:
One task is to keep seeking the light. I officially call it looking for ‘chinks of light’. On a practical level that means being willing to write lists of even the tiniest things that give him some form of pleasure, seem even vaguely pleasant, or that he simply almost imagines he could enjoy. Fractions of moments where he feels even a flicker close to OK. A song he likes. The taste of something good. A hug. When he knows he has made a contribution to somebody else’s happiness. To keep noticing. To keep seeking. Our ‘seeking’ drivers flatline in depression.
We have to trust our nature to keep seeking something beyond our knowing.
The other task is perhaps even harder. And that is to have the courage to keep growing in the direction of the darkness too. To keep expanding our roots. Because it is only through feeling the pain of loss - and yes, that can even be done in a safe and structured way, leaning into as much as you can bear, one moment at a time… that you can ever move through the very worst of times. Keep moving, however gently, keep the feelings moving. Keep moving, while also allowing yourself to fully be where you are, if you can, through the worst of grief, to a life worth living again.