When Love is Ripe for the Picking

One thing I love about Summer is blackberries. They are everywhere and even appear in unexpected places.

On my walk yesterday I noticed this woman picking some blackberries near the local shopping centre. That's what I mean about unexpected places, I wouldn't have even noticed if I hadn't seen the woman picking some. She had to stick her hands through a fence to get some. I reached out to pick a few that were ripe for the picking. Another woman standing beside me reminded me to watch out for the brambles which can sting. Too late I felt them brush against one knuckle. I ignored the sting, picked some more blackberries and ate them as I continued on my walk.

By then, my knuckle had flared up, looked red, and was stinging. I couldn't accept that such delicious fruits could cause me any pain. I decided I was only going to enjoy the fruit and the pain wasn't mine to keep. When I looked at my knuckle it was back to normal.

I came across more easily accessible blackberries and I stopped to pick some. This time I paid no attention to the brambles even though I felt them brushing against my knuckles. I picked as much as I could carry in one hand and had a gorge.

One thing I've noticed about blackberries is that the ones that I have to pull don't taste as sweet as the ones that come off easily. In fact the ripe ones are even softer and juicier. It got me thinking of love.

Love makes everything simple and effortless. I find when I'm trying hard to make something work, it's really not the right thing for me to be doing at the time. When I simply let go and let things happen naturally, things work out perfectly and effortlessly.

Thank you blackberries for your love. I look forward to having more of you later.

Enocia

Related articles: Release; Doing What Comes Natural; It's Either Love or Bullshit!; The Hard Way or Easy Way?; If It's Not Love, It's Not Real