“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was greater than the risk to bloom.”
~Anais Nin

These evolving autumn days are urging me to reflect on the summer that is now only a memory. This reflection is enhanced by the small notebooks and pieces of paper on which I have jotted down words said or read, ideas that came to me in the humidity and heat. You see, I have this habit of writing down things that, at the moment, seem paramount but on further reflection can cause me to furrow my brow.

I do this ‘jotting’, I think, in a concerted effort to keep myself from writing in a journal as many people do. I guess I think that if I simply write these things down on 3×5 notecards or on the back of a napkin, I won’t give the thoughts too much weight or take myself too seriously. After all, what might happen if someone would find my journal and read words I found important? So, while I may have started countless, beautiful journals, they are mostly left free of any real, important thoughts in favor of the jotting,scrap method.

So on this autumn day I took the opportunity,while under the guise of cleaning out my book bag, to look over the little bits of this and that that has grabbed my attention, lifted my spirit or just seemed like something I should spend more time with. The quote of Anais Nin above was tucked among those scribbles, some of which have lost their meaning to me as the temperatures have turned cooler.

Risk. Frankly, I don’t like to think much about risk. And yet it infuses all our lives and is the stuff of growing, of deepening our lives in any significant way. I probably like to stay in ‘bud’ form rather than take the risk of blooming. It is safe. I know the landscape, understand the soil. Blooming requires being seen, being known for what I really am. And sometimes I don’t like the petals I can put on display in the world. Petals that are less than kind. Petals that make judgments and are gossipy. Petals that don’t make room for other bloomers around me. It is easy to focus on these more negative blooms.

But I have been thinking about risk these past several days. Our older son is having a life adventure, camping and surfing up the West Coast. He is traveling with his dog and making it up as he goes along. It seems, from the mother-point-of-view, to be filled with risks. And yet, it is so much a part of moving from bud to blossom, finding the next thing in his life after college. The adventure has allowed him to have rich and enlivening experiences which have included surfing while seals looked on as he was surrounded by a pod of dolphins. This is not a ‘bud’ but a ‘blossom’ experience.

As I think about our faith stories they are all about people who could no longer stay in the bud. Moses. Esther.Abraham. Mary. Ruth. John. Paul. Jesus. Each came to the point, over and over again, when staying in the bud would have been to deny God’s call on their lives.

And so they took a risk. Many times blossoming led to beautiful and rich experiences. Other times it led to tragedy and hardship. The same holds true for us. To remain in the bud means never coming into our fullness. Each breath, each moment, each day, each year, holds out bud and blossom.The question is, what will choose?

What is longing to blossom in your life these autumn days? What risks are held in the promise of the bud? As the leaves begin to turn and fall, may the buds you are holding find the courage to take a risk.