Day 1 of 30 - A Package of Seeds - The Poetry of [Seemingly] Ordinary Things

Perhaps, one particularly fascinating thing about packages of seeds is not just the fact that they each contain individual seeds all packaged according to their collective commonalities that might bloom in their own way, but also, how, despite their different purposes and care needs and appearances, there is a possibility that these different packages can be carefully opened in an unhurried way, and can be planted to grow together. 

And yet, what could be even more fascinating are the ways in which these seeds, not-yet-bloomed, are often perceived as a beginning of what they could be and nothing more. But when we look closer at the seeds of flowers in particular, we are able to imagine that there is a possibility that someday they might become cosmos or marigold or some mix of flowers waiting to be revealed.

And all of this imagining of how seeds can grow can happen long before they actually grow. When they are sitting on the kitchen counter next to a keychain filled with keys and stacks of unopened envelopes, on some cold, Thursday morning, right there, long before they even reach the soil, there is this idea that is very much alive that this seed could be so much more. 

Perhaps, for some of these seeds, despite having been excitedly picked up in a whim of hopefulness, upon further research, one might recognize that these seeds are best sown in future seasons. In that moment, it might become clear that despite the sense of hopefulness that led to bringing these seeds home, there will be further waiting than anticipated. But at the same time, even in the waiting, the seeds will have never ceased to be what they are: seeds that still hold the possibility of what could be.

And yes, in that moment, the idea of 'possibility' might at times become too burdensome of a word, thinking about all these different seeds you have and how much you want them all to bloom together at the same time. And now , some will have to wait, and some may need more care than others, and some might need more sunlight than you originally realized. However, somehow who they are and who they might be still remains, no matter the time it takes for them to make it to the soil, to be watered, and to grow. - MHN