Rebalance
Growing up I early learned about the negative connotation that comes with bearing associative resemblence to thorns and burdocks.
The one outright stings and brings hurt when touched the wrong way, the other’s clingy nature leaves an annoying atmosphere in an encounter, which on top is also difficult to get rid off.
I see myself in both of these blessed happenings of natural existence and I’m certainly not alone by that view, as it has been offered to me before I could find a connection with certainty and I’ve more or less come to accept that, while imagining my way into the delusion of being a soft, joy bringing flower, because of course, I’d rather enrich the room with pleasant scent, than to leave a scar and annoying reminders.
Being stripped off blending sunlight and walking through the fog, it becomes clear I’ve barely managed to turn into a flower except for some leaves I might have grown.
The realisation hurts less than expected – having felt for a while, there will need to come a time for me to surrender to the bare naked truth of winter.
And as I get stung by my kindred, I remember the moment when one of their blood provoking, prickly arms reached out to me as I twisted my ankle on a particularly steep part of the rocky slope that leads off our mountain.
Steadily holding me in its grip, despite the scratches, offering me time to rebalance.
How interesting it is to be grateful for something that previously was considered a mere nuisance.
~written by Michelle B.