The tree outside our bedroom window has been busy lately. Do you want to see what it’s been up to? Check it out:
Talk about a show off. I mean, really. This tree is not holding back.
It got me thinking. Nature is often used an example of unabashed abundance. Nature goes for it. It doesn’t say, I am not worthy. Who am I to bloom so outrageously? It just blooms. Outrageously.
So why is it so hard for us to do the same?
I’ll tell you why. Two words: the judge.
This judge can come from within or without, it doesn’t matter. As long as there’s a voice, inside or out, telling us that we suck and we’re not worthy of shining, it’s a lot harder to shine.
What if nature did that? Can you imagine?
Let’s say we have two flowers. Call them Trudy and Sheila.
That’s Trudy on the left and Sheila on the right. Trudy’s the tiny one with the white petals. She got her small build from her mother and her white petals from her father.
Now, just for fun, let’s pretend that Trudy is not a regular flower. Oh no. Trudy is flower that has been blessed/cursed with a human brain. That’s right. A human brain.
And let’s say, because we’re pretending, that Trudy can talk. That’s right. A talking flower!
What do you imagine a talking flower with a human brain might say? What words of wisdom and profundity would emerge from her tiny flower lips?
Let’s listen in, shall we?
Trudy stretches and looks around. She gazes up at the cloudless sky. She observes the soaring birds and the buzzing bees. She studies the beautiful, blooming flowers all around her, including her neighbor Sheila. Trudy takes a deep breath and emits her first words.
“I cannot believe they put me next to Sheila. Are you kidding me? She is so conceited. Seriously. Look at that shiny stem, and those fancy leaves. And those petals. Who ever heard of orange petals?” Trudy snickers. “I’ll bet those aren’t her original petals. I’ll bet she’s had work done.”
Trudy’s leaves curdle in disgust. “Look at the bees, the way they flock to her. They don’t flock to me like that. What? Did I have too much dirt for breakfast? Does my breath smell like earthworms? What does she have that I don’t?”
Trudy looks down at her stem. “I bet she doesn’t have aphids. I’ll bet she doesn’t have ants crawling on her all the time.” Trudy picks an ant off her stem.
Trudy sighs. “I should put in for a transplant. Things are a lot better on the east side of the flower bed. They don’t have such show-offy flowers over there. My whole life would be so much better if I didn’t have to live next to Sheila.”
Trudy studies the ground for a minute. “I know what my cousin Mabel would say. She’s a dandelion.”
“Mabel is one of those spiritual flowers. Always looking on the bright side.” Trudy shudders. “She’d say that Sheila’s just shining with the light of the Divine. And that I could too. She’d say that it doesn’t matter that I’m smaller than Sheila. Or that my petals are white instead of orange. She’d say that I’m just as worthy, and just as wonderful.”
Trudy scoffs. “She pisses me off, that Mabel.”
Trudy waits. She studies the trees, the birds, her neighbor Sheila. She takes a few breaths and picks off a couple of aphids.
“I don’t know. Could I really shine like that? Like Sheila does? Wouldn’t that annoy everyone? Would that bug all the other flowers? Wouldn’t they be mad at me?”
Trudy shivers. “I guess I could try, though. Like, what have I got to lose? I mean, if it doesn’t work, I could always stay bitter and resentful. Right?”
Trudy catches her breath. “So, let’s see. I’m a flower of Spirit.” She clucks. “Yeah, right. It sounds so conceited.”
Trudy winces. “I can’t give up. I have to try at least once.” She shudders. “Okay. Here goes.” She speaks slowly. “I’m a flower of Spirit. Really, I am. And, uh, I have a right to shine. Like that.” She gulps.
“I do have a nice stem.” Trudy straightens. “And my leaves are seriously not-bad. And my petals are, well . . . they’re kinda awesome. They really are. I’m pretty cool, really.” Trudy blushes.
“I am a flower of Spirit. I am.” Trudy laughs. “Hey world – check me out! Sheila, check me out! I’m a flower, gosh darn it, and I rock! Thank you, world! Thank you, Sheila! Thank you, Spirit!!!!!!!”
Okay, so Trudy can’t really talk. We were just pretending. But it was for a reason. It was so I could make my point.
Here goes:
Flowers don’t have to go through gyrations to get how awesome they are. They just bloom and shine and grow.
We humans get the extra-added bonus of self-consciousness and doubt. That’s the bad news. The good news is that the more we align with the Divine, the more we can bypass the voices of doubt and shame and simply bloom. Like the flowers.
Like the tree outside my window.
What about you? How do you get past the voices of doubt and criticism? What makes you shine?
like your style Z, love your lessons, I laugh, I learn and I love you!
Hi Donna, I’m glad you’re enjoying the ride! I’m having fun with it. Great to hear from you. Love love, Z
Z:
Just lovely. The story shines and is such a great metaphor for my own
struggle. Thank you for being you!
P.S. I have shared your blog with one of my amazing daughters so she can
enjoy your writing as much as I. She aspires to write more.
HI Bonnie! Glad that the post resonated with you. And I welcome your daughter to this wacky blog. Writing is such a fabulous way to express the Divine in ALL of its forms. XOZ
What a great post. I’m so inspired! I’m going to share this with Ruby as well.
Now I’ve got to get back to blooming… 🙂
Hi Laura, Go on and bloom, girrrrrlfriend! And tell Ruby I say Hi! XOZ
Hi Z!
Thanks for the great message. My inner critic is called Cruella. She occasionally pokes out and likes to criticize me, everything and everyone else around. I try to remember to allow her to say her peace and let her go. Sometimes she’s pretty funny. Thanks for the great story. Love and blessings! Wy.
Hi Wy, Cruella, eh? I’m glad that you can find humor in her – that’s a good sign! XOZ
love love love! I love how you can totally capture all the feelings that many people have due to the judgments of ourselves and others in a funny and corky way that makes us see how silly we can be and how much we should love every petal of ourselves! 🙂
Hi Alicia, Love it – “every petal of ourselves.” That’s awesome! XOZ
i prefer the small white flowers. the orange ones are too flowery. the little white ones have more personality. i also like the blood red and brownish chrysanthemums.i love oddities. flower, human, music, etc. you are so awesome, z. different and unique and rockin’ and i wouldn’t want you any other way.
“Everything’s an oddity, in its own way. . . .” Isn’t that a song? We should sing it in choir!! 😉