Messages from the Flower World

A chairde, (My friend)

This spring, I sat with a question. For a couple of weeks, I’d been feeling rather depleted and drained and wondered how I could proceed with my work in the world in a more sustainable manner. How could I move forward in hopeful and inspiring ways when everything felt so impossible on the planet? Could I be a source of guidance and direction as an artist, mother, and educator when I myself felt lost and tired?

A supportive image appeared to me when I brought this inquiry into my meditation practice. In my mind’s eye, I saw the image of a painting by Diego Rivera called Calla Lily Vendor (El Vendedor de Alcatraces.)

I’d recently visited Mexico City and had the opportunity to behold so many of Rivera’s breathtaking murals. But I’d never seen this particular painting in person. Yet, the image arrived to me with such clarity and resonance that it felt like medicine for my soul.

The painting seemed like an answer to my question about how to carry on in a broken world. Rivera depicted a woman kneeling on the earth with a lowered gaze as she offers up an enormous bundle of calla lilies. The basket strapped to the woman’s back could be viewed as burdensome. Yet the basket isn’t full of bricks or books. It’s brimming with light-as-air lilies, taproots to the earth’s deep magic. The vendor is simply a graceful conduit of that magic.

The vision felt like an invitation to get out of my own way and align more deeply with spirit, with the life force, with creation energy. To me, the medicine in the image is one that suggests we needn’t break under the weight of the world on our shoulders. Instead, we can choose to carry the abundant beauty of the world on our backs and make offerings with reverence and humility.

The was not the first time the calla lilies had visited me in states of deep meditation. About fifteen years ago at a monastery upstate, I was guided into a kind of vision-quest that centered on the Buddhist Wisdom Goddess, White Tara. This female bodhisattva is associated with protection, longevity, healing, and compassion. During the meditation, I saw my own grandmother as White Tara. She stepped gingerly across a foggy bog with a bouquet of white calla lilies in her arms. When she handed me the flowers in my mind, tears streamed down my face in real time. Intuitively, I understood the flowers were a form of protection that I could carry with me.

The Wisdom Goddess White Tara

The memory of my grandmother’s bouquet and the vision of the Lily Vendor have been a source of support and refuge through the chaos and cruelty of current times. Whenever I feel overwhelmed by the weight of what’s happening in our world, I close my eyes, bow my head, and imagine myself carrying nothing but white lilies. The practice has created more space within me and has been restorative for my mind and body.

But the lilies didn’t stop there.

One Friday afternoon a few weeks ago, I visited the flower vendors in my own neighborhood to purchase blooms for a workshop I was leading the following day. I left with an armful of flowers wide as a barrel. On my way out, I noticed a bucket full of giant calla lilies. The vendor could see I liked the lilies, but saw that my hands were full. He tucked two long lily stems into my overflowing bundle as a parting gift.

A light mist of rain fell softly on my head as I carried the flowers back to the studio. People on the street smiled at the sight of my arms bursting with blooms. Raindrops had gathered on the petals of white callas lilies the vendor had given me and I realized there was no such thing as moving forward with life. We just move with life, cycling round and round with the seasons. Surrendering our lives to the voluptuous earth only to return to seed and be born again.

Thank you to everyone who attended The Meadow’s Botanical Brunch earlier this month. It was a gift to arrange and paint expressive florals with you all.

Our second year in The Meadow has yielded the most magnificent expressions of creativity, spirit and community. We ran three times as many public workshops in expressive arts as we did in our opening year and each one was a hit in its own unique way. I’ve enjoyed the opportunity to refine our offerings and try out new ideas that speak to the heart of what we’re collectively experiencing.

I’m super grateful for the support and inspiration of our collaborating partners. Thank you to the moon and back Jing Ren, Fly Stingone, Virginia Crawford, Ashley Evans, Alex Harper, Women of Culture, Art Jones, Grace Sacro, Itaf and Nawal Awad, Ha Neul On, Amy Schimel, Nicole Rodriguez, Sadie Zuch and Marisa Goudy. We see, appreciate and so need your brilliance.

I’m particularly proud of our community circles and ritual practices that have woven in the Celtic Wisdom of my own ancestry with expressive arts to meet and resource our community in ways both fresh and ancient.

We won’t be scheduling public workshops this summer. But I’ll be offering private events, salons, expressive arts prompts and guided practice virtually. Reach out to me via email if you’d like to reserve some time on our summer calendar. I’ll also post some creative prompts on The Meadow’s Instagram page. So please follow our studio if you' haven’t already.

We plan to launch The Meadow 3.0 in the fall. So stay tuned for updates on the evolution of our space.

Until then, beir bua,

Julie