If for a moment only, and then ineptly,
Let us consider the people we chance to encounter
As neither lovers nor rivals. Let us consider
People as flowers,
Rare and bud-like, each with his proper fragrance,
Each with a pattern, a hue unshared by the others.
The daisies we know, of course, and then the blossoms
Of darksome powers.
But in between are the thousands and the thousands of species,
The men as well as the women, the stem and stamen
Of body, surely, but also the succulent, tender
Poise of the mind,
And the spirit too, the scented not sighted. Truly
It is not these but the whole, the Integral being
That makes the flower. And those who cannot perceive it…
Are they not blind?
We had a lovely Christmas. Pictures will follow. I have just been a bit overwhelmed with all that needs doing around here. Couple the mountain of to-dos with being sick and we have not been doing much. It seems every winter I start with a mild cold which blossoms into a deep, chest wrenching cough. It’s my favorite part of winter.
Right now I am sitting on the couch, Elia with her new sewing kit on my one side, the dog, doing her level best to ignore Josie’s tender ministrations, nestled into my other side. The boys are on the floor playing with a new Christmas game. Peace for the moment.
This season has been full of so many different kinds of people. New friends and old, family, strangers, crazy folks at the soup kitchen, all were a part of this years memories. Some of our more frustrating encounters were with those we love dearly, and therefore expect more from, and when we are let down it is difficult to react charitably. Some frustrations happened with barely known people, misunderstandings easy to come by, since we are not yet acquainted with each others gestures and tone of voice.
It also seems, even though the New Year is still a few days away, that the theme in blogging this year is being a better parent. A nicer mother, a mother that does not care what others think of her, a mother who loves her child more. A mother more willing to defend her choices, her style of parenting, her ability to wear, nurse, love, feed, nurture, clothe, educate, etc., longer, better and in a more intense manner than any other mother out there.
I say, who cares? We are all different. We are all equally exciting, and frustrating, and annoying, and fun. Countless times as a child my parents told me “everybody is different, and different is good!” I believe that message. Different is good. Some differences drive us CRAZY and some soothe us, but they are all good.
If you were to think of each of us as a flower, then you would know that we are each meant for a different use and occasion. The carnation is humble yet long-lasting, spicy and true. The bird of paradise, while exotic, needs patience, if you are to watch it bloom. The lily of the valley is much in demand, beautiful and fragrant, but short lived and difficult to find. We are all flowers, all different, and different is good.