There is a seed of new romance sprouting.
I will nurture it, giving it the attention it requires. I will sprinkle it with excitement. The sun will shine right in there, and I will let it. In fact, I’ll cultivate it. I know the importance of doing it with well-intentioned admiration.
And so I will let it sprout in a way that allows my soul to face the sunshine, and any shadows to fall behind me. I will see it for the beautiful thing that it is. And in turn, I will let it show me how beautiful I am. I will appreciate it as part of nature. I will acknowledge its inevitability, but be in awe of its arising; unexpecting of its expectedness.
I promise to appreciate the realness of it. This growth has the ability to show me how to love myself a little bit more, and I’ll let that happen foremost. Just like this new sprout, my roots aren’t fully embedded yet. I have to remember that; I have my own growing to do, too. This will be a reminder to ground myself a little deeper into my own soil, to take care of myself, first. I promise that I won’t forget where my roots are.
I will let it cleanse the air my lungs breathe for a moment, but I’ll know that it’s not the only oxygen I need. I will appreciate my ability to show gratitude toward it. Appreciate my ability to not get too attached, to let it grow just as it needs. I will be mindful of my ability to recognize if it’s receiving too much water, if there are thorns that are pricking me, or if it’s time to step back and let nature take its course.
I will understand that—just like me—it is a part of nature. It is another flower within the garden that I am part of. We are growing together, yet independently. Simultaneously. I will let it do just that. I will let it be what it is going to be, let it go where it is going to go. I will let it respect me in the same way. I will let it be its own entity, just as I will stay my own. What I won’t do, is let it hinder my own growth, my own beauty. After all, a flower doesn’t grow by comparing itself to the rest.
Without the chance of some sunshine there is no chance of thriving, and so I will let it be vulnerable to the elements. I will let myself be vulnerable, too. Without the risk of the harsh forces that may break it (me) down, there’s no opportunity for the nurturing forces that will let it (me) flourish. The wind won’t be a bother if the roots are deep, it won’t distress me if my roots are deep.
In fact, the lightening might just be exactly what I need—a forest fire to help me build back up, to encourage the wildflowers to bloom. Maybe the bed of ashes is just the platform I need to ground my new roots into, the new foundation that is needed to build upon. Or perhaps this is the growth that was enabled by the last thing of nature that went up in flames.
The rain will fall, and I will see what will grow. I will embrace the elements, and see what they replenish.
I will let it grow, let it blossom, let it bloom.
Author: Paige Berling-MacKenzie
Editor: Catherine Monkman
Photo: Author’s Own