I have a Word file with 272 prompts. New prompts often pop up in the middle of the night. Sometimes, if an idea comes when I’m away from home, I make notes on my little spiral cash book–or if my phone is with me–put it in the notes, and add it to my prompt document later. These suggestions help out on days when nothing in particular has touched me to write about, or I’ve been moving too quickly to notice–too engaged in life to step back with a writerly eye.

This is one of those days: I have been concerned about our sick dog, Emma (expensive vet appointment, supervised walks in the back yard) and busy studying real estate. Sitting down for a few minutes now, I needed some inspiration. I open up the Word doc and pick the first prompt that catches me–it feels juicy, alive–so I plunk it in here, and write. Today, I chose “generosity.”

Orchids, for example, are generous beyond most flowers–the blossoms of some varieties last almost six months. Lilies bloom and then bloom some more. Our Christmas cactuses were filled with blooms twice this year, Thanksgiving and March. Their beauty stops the mind, gives a refreshing moment of stillness.

I have a friend of thirty-five years whose home is close by. Her generosity simply overflows. When I admired the New Zealand spinach in her vegetable garden, she sent me home with two of its babies to put in our garden. She showed up with a bar of my favorite, hard-to-find soap the other day.

And then she brought a gorgeous orchid; ours were given away to friends in Oregon because of the strict plant importation laws, and she knew I was grieving for them. (The magenta one above that lived with us for ten years was re-homed.)

The gifts are wonderful, but what I’m speaking about is her generosity of spirit–her heart is open and flowing. It brings tears, and it nudges me to remember. Overflowing hearts merge in oneness. Deep thanks to my dear friend.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2012