As a child, did you ever take a deep breath and blow the white fluffy seeds from a dandelion head in the springtime? I remember doing it many times, thinking about wishes coming true. Launched by my child’s breath, recently used to squeel during dodge ball or sing while riding my bike or pant after a race with a friend down the street, I dreamed the seeds on lacy umbrella wings would hold all I wanted and more I couldn’t say. They would fly and float, landing safely somewhere – finding a route to a place where they could take root. These wishes were holy sacred things, though I wouldn’t have used those words. And the act of sending them forth was nearly sacramental. Children feel the specialness of moments and actions with no need to explain or belabor them. And so did I. Did you?
With that same wonder and confidence, I invite us to be curious today about what wishes we would send off safely spinning. Some we know the names of, others are just hints and longings. And the very action of sending is its own end… asking and launching our partially named, sometimes rough edged, needs. Perhaps they are hopes for the terrors of the people of Japan these days, or the grieving and the lost there. Maybe they are about an elderly relative or an ill friend or friend/relative of a friend. A new or freshly claimed direction for our own lives in health, or a take on the twists of our vocational journey, perhaps. A joyful celebration for a niece or grandson, child or parent. A concern for those with little hope, or a break in the fog so that we can see better, may be our longing.
Consider sharing your dandelion wishes here, so we can together care for what you care about. Or simply let us know you are launching some, so the rest of us can have the courage to do so. Action can prompt action. Solidarity can provide momentum. Breathe deeply, hold the stem securely, purse your lips and – with a long exhale – send them out and up.