I was re-writing a short story that I had written last year, and then I took a short break. I walked outside (I was in my parents' house, by the way) to the front yard and saw a beautiful purple orchid that has just blossomed at my Mom's garden. It inspired me to add a significant "meat" to the story.
Here's what I call a "Signature of All Things" moment (Elizabeth Gilbert, again...haha!).
An excerpt from my short story, "Purple Orchid"
Kaki taught me how to mown the lawn, how to trim and shape the plants, how to plant new trees, how many times to water them and when. He'd taught me basically everything he knew about gardening and maintaining the landscape. Dusun people were born to plant he said, and I was supposed to know everything about it, for the gift of gardening ran in my blood. I’d rather have that running in my blood than having my father’s brain, I thought.
“Why do we waste time planting these plants and flowers that don’t produce fruits? We can’t eat them,” I asked Kaki one morning.
“Well,”—he looked at me wistfully—“God created plants not only to satisfy hunger, but also to feed our souls, our minds, and our spirits. You see, some plants are remedy to maladies, some are for us to devour—each plant has a purpose, and sometimes their purpose could simply be delivering God’s mind to us,”—he paused—“Come here. Look at this,” he pointed at a blossomed orchid, purple, and glistening under the morning sun. “What do you feel when you see this?”
“Feel?”
“Yes. Look at it carefully.”
“It’s beautiful?” I said.
“Tell me what you feel, not what you see. What does beauty makes you feel?”
“I feel…” I paused, thinking about Father and Mother, and how my brother and sisters had treated Loren and I--it ached my chest. Then I looked at the purple orchid. I studied its petals, crowned with morning mists, glowing purple so brilliantly under the golden sunray. “I feel...happy,” I smiled. And I did feel happy, and serene. It was liberating!
My point is not to show off or embarrass myelf with gramatical errors or whatever errors you might find in this excerpt, but my point is rather to share with you, dear readers (including me cause I read what I write) that when we're seeking for an inspiration, we do not have to go too far, sometimes what we're looking for is right in front of us. You'll be surprised to find gems in little, oblivious things...just keep calm, be still, open your eyes, and listen, carefully.
Now, tell me, what do you feel?