Doing It Audaciously

...Like a Magnolia Seed

This year my magnolia trees are heavy with twice the number of seed pods as usual. What do they know that I don’t? Why are they making so many seeds this year?

For Magnolia, when it is time to travel a new home, could there be a better way than to make themselves into seeds? Seeds that are as big and colorful as possible and ready to hitchhike inside the bellies of animals. Each year all of Magnolia’s efforts are focused on creating their luscious fire-engine red seeds. This is what they live for. As they proudly push out their newborn seeds for everyone to see, they know that each one deserves the very best escort to their new home.

Often, their seeds are hanging by a single umbilical cord—a silk thread still attached to the vulva-like opening of their seedpod womb. They know their beauty, their rightness and purpose in the world. When the red seeds are spit out of the pod, they sometimes appear quite erotic. More often they are playful, as if they are sticking out their tongue. Or perhaps, more like a hitchhiker with their thumb out, looking for a ride—in this case from a passing bird or a squirrel.

Through the rituals of the mating dances of their fragrant flowers, Magnolia pulls their very essence—all their hope—up from their roots and the dirt, each and every year. Can hope be this bold; this audacious; this sure of themselves?

“Here!” they say, “Take this gorgeous, tasty seed that is a big fat drop of my life blood. I need to make sure you see how beautiful I am, just in case you missed my flowers earlier this summer! I am Grandflower Magnolia! I will not be ignored!”

And it is true, how could we fail to see them all through the season? With their bright glossy green leaves with rusty red undersides; their gloriously fragrant flowers in early summer; the fuzzy pink seed pods in summer; and their bright red seeds in early fall; they call attention to themselves all year long.

A few years ago, at my cousin’s house, I came across a picture of myself at about age five or six that I had never seen before. At first it brought up a lot of painful feelings about how I looked, and how I got picked on as a kid. But then I realized this photo was showing me when I was still young enough to feel like that big red magnolia seed—before I became self-conscious. In the picture, I am standing firmly in my Maryjane shoes, feet spread apart, with white socks and high-water pants. I have on my first pair of glasses – blue tortoise shell—and on my head I am wearing one of those knitted pointy winter stocking caps that draped all the way down my back. I remember that hat—I think I wore it both indoors and out for half a year. I vaguely remember it making me feel special—like it was my magic powers hat.

In this picture, I know who I am and what I want. I am sure of myself, even though I was dressed so differently from my other cousins who are all dressed in their Sunday best. What if I had never lost that assurance, that knowledge of my place in the world, trusting in my own heart? What if I had always been like that big red magnolia seed?

In a world where the clamoring cacophony of voices increasingly cry out with their unmet needs to be seen and heard, it is tremendously refreshing to see how simple it can be to be seen, in nature.  What happens when we are not afraid of what others will say about our bright red coat—when we dance and sing and create with the innocent wisdom of a 5-year-old child? Then our heart’s desire can burst forth like the big red seed of the ancient magnolia knowing its worth and place in the world without a second thought.

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