Fruit Unseen

At the end of June, I facilitated the on-going "Continuing Journey" workshop. Participants first complete at least one full What's Next?! Workshop series, and then join this forum for the opportunity to connect with a community of folks committed to personal growth, while manifesting their best selves.

To begin each session, I offer some provocative exercise as a spring board for the work of that day. Each time is different, and I never know what we'll be doing until some deep intuitive sense informs me. At the June gathering, we began with a visualization.

As each person embarked on their personal work of the day, I asked about the fruit from the visualization. And the answers were vivid - every one. While on my personal retreat in Costa Rica, surrounded by banana, lime, star fruit and avocado trees, I felt inspired to see what form my own unique fruit might take.

I could feel the deep roots. My tree was tall and somewhat slender, broadening at the top with a grace and beauty that felt shimmery. Except, I couldn't see any fruit. I looked, high and low, deep within the branches, but only the overall glint of lavender radiance was visible. And then I realized, that's the fear - that there is no fruit.

I took a breath into the sadness of that possibility, and then, well that didn't feel quite right. I know the fruit. It feeds me regularly. With a breath I got it, just because I can't see the fruit doesn't mean it isn't there!

That's really my on-going work. To believe in the unseen. To be okay not knowing. To trust fully in myself and the resources the universe provides for me. It seems a tall order sometimes. There is the wish to see the fruit, to know it's there, even if I choose not to eat it in the moment. And yet, I already know how to do that, so where's the growth, the challenge?

The truth is, I also know how to trust that the fruit exists even when I cannot see it, but I forget. When I feel frightened or out of my element, I race back to the safe ground of knowing. Ironically, the truly safe ground is being okay with the not knowing - and the possibilities there are far greater.

I do find peace, though, remembering a story told to me many years ago by April Prita Manganiello of Ghangas Kahn and the monk. If you've worked with Prita or me, you may have heard it. My version is how I took it in - it may not be what Prita actually said.

Late in the 12th century, Genghis Khan traveled from village to village across northeast Asia murdering the town's folk and pillaging the communities to gain control of the land. In anticipation of his arrival, people ran to hide in the mountains, attempting to save their lives from this powerful maniac.

But there was one man, a monk, who sat in a village square. He sat in silence - simply being. When Khan rode into town with his army behind him, he caught sight of the monk. Brandishing his sword, he drove his horse right up to the monk and screamed out, "DON'T YOU KNOW I COULD KILL YOU?" And the monk replied, "Don't you know, I could let you."

The monk demonstrated his ultimate trust. The trust in his very spirit to be okay, regardless of what happened to his corporal being. And in the face of the unknown, he didn't run, he made no attempt to control the outcome, he sat and held the power of his vulnerability and trust as his only weapons.

I believe that's one of my lessons on my own continuing journey. It may not be for me to master in this realm, and yet, I seek to trust the unknown. Just because I can't see the fruit, doesn't mean it isn't there.

May you find the nectar of trust within you.

With love and vulnerability,
Joanne Lutz