A strange thing has been happening where I live. Trees are budding. My Rose-of-Sharon shrubs have new flowers blossoming when normally they bloom in July or August and are completely dead by now.
We had a terrible windstorm not too long ago. The worst one I’ve seen in almost ten years. Trees were knocked over, limbs were ripped off, fences, garbage cans, trampolines and swing sets were blown over and away. My shrubs looked like they were dead. The leaves turned brown and shriveled. And yet, there are new flowers blooming. And I’ve seen new buds on my neighbor’s trees.
I love symbolism, and I see it everywhere. I see these trees, shrubs and flowers reflecting the beauty and strength that can come from going through hard, hard things. The difficult things we go through—the difficult things I have gone through—don’t have to kill or maim us. They may hurt. They may, at times, make us feel weathered, shriveled, ugly. But they are also what makes us bloom and blossom. We become stronger, more resilient and beautiful through the winds that beat upon us. And we can share that beauty—beauty and light—with others around us.
Even through the hard, hard things—like this year of 2020—there is still beauty. There is still newness. There is still time and room to grow. There is still more to become.
I’ve decided I may need amend my statement about being a self-proclaimed pessimist. I guess the actual definition of pessimism is looking for the worst in a situation as opposed to an optimist who looks for the best. I don’t look for the worst. I don’t look for the bad. I don’t focus on the negative. I am someone who often expects things to go wrong because they often do, but I look at all of my experiences in life as opportunity for learning and growth. I learned this from a friend all the way back in high school. She told me that she was raised to view the world as a testing ground and that no matter how hard she tried it seemed like fate was stacked against her and she always failed miserably—until she changed her perspective. She decided to look at life as more of a place for soul growth. Once she did that she found she was a lot happier.
Wow. What an amazing lesson and perspective for me to glean from. I was so grateful she had shared this with me, and it has stuck with me ever since.
In conversations with others we’ve come to the conclusion that our belief in Murphy’s Law is a way to protect ourselves from disappointment and hurt. That way when things to go right, when things turn out in a good way (because, YES, it does happen) we can be pleasantly surprised and happy about it. As for me, when things go wrong I may be down for a bit, but I also always ask myself what I can learn from the experience and how I can use it to help myself or others.
So maybe I’m not a pessimist. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m an optimist, but maybe not a pessimist. Maybe someone who sometimes expects things to go wrong, but looks for the good anyway. Soul growth. That’s what I’m about. Soul growth.
Walking through that door makes the blue a little lighter. She holds space as I gently spill. We sit, we talk - we water, dig and bury. Nurturing a shoot. Aiding it in light - to find its path through thorns - Malan Wilkinson