Kiss from a Wayward Rose
My rose bush
is 16 years old. It wasn’t meant to be a bush; it was meant to be a climber.
Years ago, we brought it, along with a trellis arch for it to trail up; for
years we attempted to coax it, but to no avail.
This rose
was determined to be a bush, just a big old stubby, bushy bush. It had decided
early on: I am not going to be a climber. I am going to do my own thing. It was
supposed to be a climber. It was labelled a climber rose, a beautiful iceberg
white, that would look stunning in the garden.
But as I sit
here outside journaling and having my morning coffee all these years later and
look at this bush, there are now parts of it sprouting off from the sides and
attempting to climb into nowhere.
We took that
trellis away years ago. Now after all these years as I contemplate this bush’s
story, I see what it was originally meant to be. Part of it, deep down inside
is still a climber – what it was originally meant to be. Part of it is still
wanting to become what it was destined for.
What can I
learn from her? Well for one thing, if you do not do what you should do when
you still have the right tools available to do it, then the possibility of you
being able to do something might be taken away, and you will not have anything
to hold onto. You will not be able to accomplish it later. You might not be
able to do what was originally intended for you. And more than that – what was
actually built into you
Look, that
trellis got old. We had to dispose of it. We thought this bush was not going to
climb, so we never replaced it. And, to tell you the truth, we tried to kill
that bush. We cut it down and hacked away at the root system, but it was just
too strong. We decided to let it live and see what it would do. And we were
glad that we did, and we still are glad about that. We have enjoyed its roses
for 7 years since.
So now, all
these years later, the old gall is deciding she wants to try climbing. What am
I going to do? I am going to cut them off. Why? Because we no longer want or
need a trellis for her to climb. We have reshaped our garden and it will no
longer accommodate a rose climbing arch. It no longer has a role to play in our
plans. The environment of the garden no longer warrants it. So, lady rose, determined
to have your way, your purpose has changed. It is now, and always will be a
bush (like you wanted). Your branches might run wild for a while, but you will
never be a true climber now. The opportunity has passed you by. This is your life
now. You are still beautiful and special, but you are what you are, and that is
… a bush. Regret is a waste of today.
So, I sit
here and admire your climbing ability, and marvelling that it is still within
you somewhere, I never noticed it until today. Perhaps there is still hope for
the future. Perhaps I will take cuttings from you, with your climbing branches,
and see if you can reproduce. Then another cut from your cloth might do what
you might have done. You can still be proud, perhaps your children that are a
part of you might be able to carry out your original purpose, and destiny.
So once upon
a time in this garden where you were planted, you made your decisions, and your
overseer was kind. They tried for years, and were patient when you did your own
thing, went your own way, and would not climb and go where you were supposed
to. When you did not realize what was good for you, they were patient and kind,
but the trellis remained bare, and their dream for you went unfulfilled. So,
they took the trellis away and decided to do away with you too. They were close
to destroying you. But they had mercy and decided to give you another chance to
shine. They decided that maybe you would look good as just a bush after all and
they honoured your wishes. Their plans changed around you, and they accommodated
your wishes. You grew strong and were admired for your roses by everyone who
saw them. They took photos and showed you off. But deep down inside you
something remained unfulfilled. You yearned for something else, something that
was missing that might have once been. Could it be?
Your
overseer was glad that they did not kill you, now you are blooming again. But something
has changed within you. As you have grown older, and wiser, you have realized
something, you feel the need to … climb
Do not fret
my darling, you are wonderful in your way, and your overseer loves you. You are
stunning and everyone is charmed by you. But what once may have been will never
be now. And you somehow need to accept that. Don’t be too sad. Your offspring
will be given the chance that was once given to you. And…
regret is a waste of today.
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