THE gardener took the grown tuber that was blooming on the left and duplicated what was described by the Los Angeles Times’ L.A. at Home as, “It is only by the capturing of residual autumn warmth and early winter rain that they put down roots needed for a vigorous spring bloom.” Then, the plant grew.
Iris 2, subdued lilac in color and smaller-sized, grew with more flowers.
The plant took to the acidic soil and dappled light, while Iris 1 grew quite well in the pond, submerged in the richness of the nutrients in the pond water.
Both are Pacificas, aka Pacific Coast irises, and what if we use this as a metaphor for life? What if we pass on our thoughts to our children, beyond our wounds, reminding them that we are created as beloved children of God, and unlimited in what we can achieve.
Think of being Iris 1, sunk to reach all the nutrients it possibly could and allowed to bloom in its own time.
Much like the second generation of Filipino Americans, who were born and nutured here in the United States, they are exposed to the beauty of their culture and anchored in the solidity of the struggles of their ancestors. But would they get a new sense of who they are? Would their identities be solidified so they are free to create, to compose and to simply do what they want to do?
I previously wrote about Toni Rodriguez and how she was groomed to follow her passions. Her parents guided her, and the boundaries were placed not on her creativity, but to make sure she is exposed only to what nurtures her spirituality, her academics and her creativity.
As Victor Narro said, “We were created to create, and in expressing our creative selves through our work for justice, we are allowing for others to become creative in their lives, as part of their dignity. Look inward, and turn on your inner artist!”
Much like what Victor Narro wrote, Toni (barely 20 years old at the time I wrote about her) composes her songs in the morning and with support from talents of Bungalo Records/Universal Music Distribution Group, she is able to complete the video tracks the same evening.
It is a feat that one achieves when all is in synchrony with oneself, immersed in the nutrients of lessons from her ancestral upbringing, mentored by teachers who cared for her in Incarnation School, Flintridge Sacred Heart Academy and now, Berklee College of Music and guided with love by her parents, Imelda Cledera Rodriguez and Embet Rodriguez and more importantly, her grandmother, Corazon Cledera, who nurtured her with love, kindness and music.
Contrast that to Coast 2, still blooming, but in acidic soil. Could perhaps the acidity of our upbringing hold back our creative spirits from emerging? Or is it about perspective, of knowing your place in the Universe, waiting for our nourishment in ‘dappled light’ as these Coast irises? Or what Leny Strobel writes: “How can Filipino American culture be reinvented so that it becomes acceptable to the broadest spectrum of the community? To build a community is to be able to watch for signposts. To do this one must always locate herself within her culture and locate herself in different cultures as well, and as she goes along, the mind’s eye will develop with a sense of direction and purpose. The new generation of Filipino American college students has the potential to define the future of the Filipino American community. But in the next ten years or so, this generation of Filipino American college students will be the arbiters of culture.”
Even with wounds from one’s upbringing, a person can heal, and in time, reaching out to the dappled light to do the interior work, a wounded healer can unleash her own creative spirit.
Moving along Highway 5
We saw along Highway 5 from Central Valley to Lake Shasta acreages planted to almond trees, to sunflowers, to olive trees to corn stalks for eating and left to fallow as corn feed for cattle.
Three miles from Zamora, north of Highway 5, acreage of newly bloomed sunflowers dotted the landscape on both sides of the freeway, reminding us of Tour de France’s yet it felt like spring.
From feed corn for cattle near the Dunnigan exit (allowed to graze first, to the feed lot for fattening up to the ultimate slaughter to gain food for the masses) these cornfields are left to fallow.
Then, as contrast to the fallowed land, these withered stalks of corn gave a sunken feeling that Mother Earth has been wasted and in some distance, orchards of almond trees appeared.
Renewal and rest
“Land needs to rest,” reminds my hubby/philosopher, Enrique.
Are we not like soil of the earth, needing new adventures, for if we lie fallow, doing the same daily rituals, do we not feel like weeds, waiting to be plowed under, as if compost of the earth, as if ‘walking dead’?
God is good and His creations are magnificent, including the cacophony of vibrant children’s voices that seem to have unlimited energies. They are God’s gifts to the future, much like the 8 Indian tribes, who in 1890 preserved the lakes and forests for us now and future generations to enjoy!
Our children can become arbiters of the culture, applying their own creativity and incorporating the strengths and signposts of their own heritage and upbringing and reaching for examples wherever they may find them, the Native American Indians, or the grown blooms of the Pacifica Irises.
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Prosy Abarquez-Delacruz, J.D. writes a weekly column for Asian Journal, called “Rhizomes.” She has been writing for AJ Press for 9 years now. She contributes to Balikbayan Magazine. Her training and experiences are in science, food technology, law and community volunteerism for 4 decades. She holds a B.S. degree from the University of the Philippines, a law degree from Whittier College School of Law in California and a certificate on 21st Century Leadership from Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government. She has been a participant in NVM Writing Workshops taught by Prof. Peter Bacho for 4 years and Prof. Russell Leong. She has travelled to France, Holland, Belgium, Japan, Mexico and 22 national parks in the US, in pursuit of her love for arts.