Thorns, Petals and Growth
A late-July evening, a kind summer breeze blowing softly through space,
as the sun lingers over the horizon, about to set here and rise elsewhere.
And I stop my walk as a rose calls out to me.
‘Come, experience me,’ it says,
its smell asking me to come closer.
Curiosity and excitement bubble in my mind,
as I hold the stem and bring the rose closer to my nose,
my eyes closed, my heart open, my spirit rising,
my lips kissing the petals,
as my fingers tighten around the stem.
Bliss. Beauty. Nourishment.
Aargh! That hurts: a thorn making its way into my thumb.
My beloved blood oozing out, my hands clenched tight,
my body rushing away from the bush,
my fingers pressing against my red thumb, trying to protect and heal it.
The breeze blows by me, by my hurting and vulnerable self.
Self-blame tries to take the stage: ‘What a clumsy idiot I am,’ my mind saying out loud,
‘to not know that roses have thorns,
to not have the common sense to keep distance from sources of pain.’
‘Pause for a second,’ my spirit replies. ‘We’re all hurting.
Self-love is what we crave, instead of being self-blame’s slave.’
‘Oh, shut up. We’re in pain, there’s no need to be insane’, self-blame replies.
Spirit chimes in again: ‘What if you could remember not to get too close to a thorny bush?
What if you allow vulnerability, awareness and safety to hold hands as they approach a rose?
and remember not to get so close that you might be hurt,
but get close enough that you enjoy the beauty,
of not just roses, but also of life?
Self-blame paused and silently sat down, as self-love held hands with it.
I went back to the bush, took a photo of the thorn that had prickled me,
plucked the rose that had drawn me, and held it near my thumb,
as I kept walking,
petal in my left hand, thorn photos in the right,
lessons and learnings in my mind,
gratitude for it all in my mind, body, spirit, and soul.
