Did you ever have a wound that you dressed with care after finding out it was infected and festering? You had let it go a very long time, until it threatened the rest of you. So when you went to finally get a professional to examine the wound, and they gave you instructions, you followed them. You applied the salve, you kept it covered, once in a while it would have to be debrided – painful, but it removed the infection. You really felt healed. You knew there was scar tissue under there, as with all large wounds, but, it only bothered you once in a while when the adhesions pulled a little bit, like a pinch. You knew then, to ease up a little.
And then years down the road, someone close to you, knowing of the wound – elbows you, HARD. And they say “What, that old thing? Aren’t you over that by now? What’s the big deal?” And for that moment, you cannot breathe. You’re not sure what you feel: hurt, anger, disbelief? What you articulate is flatness, until they are not around. Then you cradle the wound, and check it to make sure those long sealed pieces of flesh did not come undone, so that all the tender parts are exposed again. And you cry, because crying is the only thing that is safe. To let the anger out, would consume like a raging wildfire everything around you. To let the hurt out, would make you vulnerable. And to admit that you were gullible enough to feel disbelief, would mark you as a patsy.
That’s the kind of afternoon I had today – one where I had to walk away from work in order to collect myself, gather the bits, check the wound, and find balance. Natural beauty provides that for me, a reaffirmation that everything continues on – seeds go in dirt, water and soil nurture the seeds, and in a pretty short time, beauty ensues. So I spent a little while outside with my zinnias, and captured many shots. I’ve compiled them here.
In every shot, it is the same flower, just different angles. From some angles, you can see the shadows and light. In another angle, you can see the full beauty when the sun shines just right. From another angle, you can see the glint of refracted light. But set among them is the black and white version, when the color drains from the picture. It’s all the same flower – it just depends on the light hitting it.
And this is how I fix things…by remembering all of my angles, and never letting someone take away all of my color. I control that, not them. I am not seven years old again, but I remember her, and I keep that innocent, trusting, child-like person with me all of the time.
Being part of the natural world reminds me that innocence isn’t ever lost completely; we just need to maintain our goodness to regain it.
Be well, and I’m gonna try to do the same 🙂