Wednesday, April 16, 2008


I find people rather strange at times. I can only assume that they find me strange at times. What I find even more strange is that people seem to take themselves FAR to seriously and allow the most minute and mundane of happenings to derail what would be a rather pleasant day. I can wake up in the morning refreshed and ready to tackle whatever life has to offer yet the smallest amount of trite and insignificant whining can reset the course of my day. The beginnings of a most lovely day can so easily be tainted by the opinions and views of others.

How then do we as human beings continue to function in a frail, and oft times, mean and bitter world? The idea that I allow others to impact my daily well being is preposterous. How can I function as a productive individual in society and not be affected by the most baseless and inane insults often hurled at the most inappropriate and unsuspecting moments? Do I coil and retreat to the safety of my personal cave? Do I become a loner in order to never face the glare of ridicule or criticism? Do I learn what it means to grow thick skin and endure senseless attacks upon my persona and process without a thought of the opinions of others? To do so would create a callous and jaded soul that, in all honesty, would be useless in and for society in general.

But what great fear we have that such ridiculous and offensive behavior would often be committed by those we have allowed beyond the Great Wall. Beyond the place where most of humanity will never see. The secret garden of our souls reserved for the few who would walk among the beautiful rose bushes with its enticing aroma and beauty. These are they who have breached the barrier of the shallow and have moved into the deep waters of committed kindred spirit. It is here that I remain the most vulnerable and unprotected from the cruel nature of human kind. It is here that wounds are made so intense that recovery seems far far out of reach. It is here, within this sacred space that the mortal wounds of trusted visitors can reek havoc and permanent devastation. Do I shut down and close the garden?

But along with such fragrant beauty and splendor comes the reality of thorns. Yes, thorns that from time to time prick the hearts of those who wander through your lush landscape. The unsuspecting admirer who takes a moment to saunter through your garden finds themselves at times wounded and bleeding. These thorns of reality remind your visitors of the humanity of your garden and the risk of such a venture beyond the shallow depths of impersonal contact. It is here, in this space that human nature is revealed in its most raw and unaltered state. There is beauty and texture and blue skies here but from time to time reality pricks our souls and we are left changed.

I have scars. I have been that unsuspecting wanderer who has been hurt in the most vulnerable spaces of security. I have been wounded by those who carry the label of friend and with whom have traveled along life's great journey. I have thorns. I have hurt and marred those who have dared to go beyond the Great Wall. I have, at times, an unkept garden.

But I don't see my scars as a sign of weakness or as moments of lapse in judgement, rather, a signal of an enduring spirit in a never ending quest for connection. The invitation to my garden is rare but the stay is worth the wait and effort. The promises of thornless beauty is futile but the realization of healing is the balm of Gilead. Who dares to walk here? Who dares to tread such unknown paths? Only those whose human evolution has allowed them to rise above the mundane and ridiculous notion of perfection and to see themselves in a flawed and warped mirror. To see themselves as others see them; dangerously beautiful, elegant with shades of brutality, a garden full of roses and thorns.

I love a brilliant rose garden.

That is all....

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