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| Green Bough, Singing Bird |
“Keep a green bough in your heart and the singing bird will come.” Chinese Proverb
Many years ago, when my children were as small as my expectations for my then failing marriage, I saw something on TV that changed my life. The mini-series, “Masada,” portrayed the struggle and eventual mass suicide of 960 Hebrew rebels attempting to evade enslavement by the Romans in 73-74CE. The Hebrews sought refuge in the Judaean desert, fleeing to the abandoned, isolated rocky plateau where Herod the Great had built Masada, a highly fortified palace. Knowing the Romans would pursue them by attempting to gain entry with their battering rams, they strengthened their sanctuary with ‘soft walls.’
The Hebrew rebels reasoned that the existing wooden walls surrounding the fortress would most likely splinter and shatter with enough pounding by the battering rams of the determined Romans. Instead of trying to simply reinforce the existing rigid walls they constructed double walls leaving a space in between to be filled with wet sand. The wet sand was intended to cushion the blows. Hope was that they could hold out long enough to discourage the notoriously zealous soldiers who were daily being threatened with death by dehydration while water was plentiful inside the Hebrew sanctuary. It worked for more than a year, but not long enough.
After the lengthy siege, the Roman battering rams finally broke through the Hebrew defenses. When they could see defeat was inevitable, the Hebrews burnt all buildings and supplies to the ground before taking their own lives. The Roman’s long sought prize was nothing more than the wreckage of a once prosperous fortress. The conquerers found everything destroyed among the corpses of people who refused to return to a life of slavery.
It is a poignantly moving piece of our human history replete with timely messages about choice, freedom, faith, and cost . . . What I took away from this film that changed my life, was the metaphor of ‘soft walls.’
My life had not turned out the way I had hoped it would, and I was at a choice point. I had wanted a family and now I had one! There was no going back on the demands of those little faces looking to me for a full life of love and care. Every time I looked into the expectant, curious, hopeful eyes of my kids I knew I would not let them down . . . What would see me through the months and years ahead without the love I had counted on? ‘Soft Walls.’
I could see the possibility of becoming bitter and resentful. I was terrified at the thought of trying to be loving and warm with my children while simultaneously drowning from the disappointed hope in my marriage. I didn’t think I could live with that kind of psychic split for long. To be there for them meant choosing to stay vulnerable, and soft-hearted inside despite what had become for me, a loveless marriage. The metaphor of the soft walls in the struggle at Masada became a North star for the compass of my life . . . Something I held before me to deflect bitterness with gentleness and raise my children in genuine love.
There are few things in my life that have grabbed hold of me like the metaphor of staying soft despite the harshness in the world. I have no regret over the choice I made so many years ago to remain supple in spirit. That choice has served me well while facing into some of the heartaches life will throw in your path . . . death of loved ones, loss of friendships, the end of a job, shattered dreams, or failing health. These inevitable miseries that pound at the walls of our human fragility are better taken by a resilient, malleable soul able to cushion the blows.
I woke up this morning to the song of a robin singing in the tree outside my bedroom window. The fluid notes filled my mind as I made my way from the land of dreams to the light of the new day. I remembered the words of the Chinese Proverb . . . “Keep a green bough in your heart and the singing bird will come.” I sighed. Tears welled up in my eyes from deep memory . . . tears of gratitude for that day, so many years ago when I embraced the supple, bendable bough in living green that has kept the singing bird in my heart . . .
That’s what this artist is thinking about today . . .
About the painting . . . Just a few weeks ago when we had the very first Spring-like day after a long, wet Pacific NW Winter I painted “Green Bough, Singing Bird.” This painting is an attempt to capture the freshness of new life that emerges from the cold bones of Winter . . . the soft, green life always available to the welcoming heart . . .
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