One of the things about whatever brief springtime there is in western NC, is that one must decide quickly as to what needs pruning or not in the garden.
For a variety of reasons which will remain a mystery for now, much of my landscaping is either overgrown or non-existent. However, I had made the decision that this year would be different, and committed to at least clearing several select plots, and having someone else keep the rest manageable for me.
I generally pride myself on my deft ability to remove brambles, but in conquering a considerable amount of overgrowth today, I was also stuck by a number of large thorns. At one point, I removed my gloves to pry lose a thorn that had lodged in both the fabric and my skin, and in looking at the thorn, I marveled, how like a shark’s tooth it is, and then I thought of biting and bitterness.
Which is really just the cycle of it all.
It is not just the fact that we are interwoven that makes us all accountable for self, but it is also the fact that we are part of the life and death of everything, and this makes us accountable to spirit.
It can sometimes be an odd thing to finish a book. Once you have let it go, you begin to wonder and doubt, and see all the little flaws and blemishes all at once. But in this perspective, what is missed is that radiant beauty that is the root, the core of book’s own spirit, and the part that never dies, regardless of the dross that is heaped upon it.
So, being stung by thorns, I also come to appreciate the heart of all this life and the way that we all dance together in this cosmic loop. I recognize the imperfections as the beauty, and the bite becomes the challenge which tempers the soul.