In the warm autumn afternoon sun, a dandelion seed clings to the edge of my patio table. The wind is gentle enough just to sway it back and forth, the seed somehow sticking on its tip against the plastic, the fiber optic-like umbrella circling around in an elegant dance.
Here in front of me is an ultimate example of design. Dandelions, after flowering has finished, dry out and a balloon of seeds opens up ready for disturbance – wind. Their umbrella-like architecture enable them to leverage the conditions around them for maximum gain – mainly, movement through space to plots of disturbed soil, the breeding grounds for new growth.
Right now, this seed seems lonely. Lost. And yet, quaintly content, ambling away the afternoon in the breeze.
Because the seed doesn’t have to think about its destination. It is created in a specific way, with specific characteristics, to find its way. To fulfill its destiny, so to speak.
And so are we.
There are days when I lose faith. I don’t have a 9-5 job that I’ve held for a decade or two, with health benefits and a promise of an early retirement. I don’t have a job at all, really, nor one to go back to “after the kids grow up”. I don’t have any guarantees. Just dreams and a computer and little pockets of time to do whatever it is I think I need to do to move toward those dreams. And faith that someday it will pay off.
But no one has guarantees.
What we do have is intuition. And preferences. And skills. And passions. And they are all there for a reason. Like little umbrella seeds, we are designed to take to the wind, to trust that invisible force that carries us when we have no idea where we are going, and to believe that our little feathery arms will eventually take us there.
Because they will. They will.