Roses and Thorns

A person that plants thorns, must never expect to gather roses.           -Paulo Coelho

I read this and sat outside on my patio, pondering the wisdom of these words as I looked at the garden filled with flowers and green plants,and tall trees that are losing their leaves.

There’s a chapter in Paulo’s book,The Spy, where the mother gives her daughter a package of flower seeds and tells her to carry these seeds so they will remind her of who she is and where she’s from. 

The mother says to her daughter, “These are seeds of tulips, they will only bloom into tulips. The seeds you plant will not change into another type of flowers.”

There it is. Simple as that.

What you plant, is what will bloom. 

Or at least, that’s the way it works in the garden and the yard.

 I dig up wayward trees that are growing in cracks and even in the gutters of my studio, and I replant them where I believe they will grow deep roots and become tall, beautiful trees that offer shade and shelter.

I buy clearance plants from Lowe’s- bedraggled, pitiful, little things and I plant them and I nurture them fully expecting them to thrive and bloom…and they do. 

That’s another lesson from my Mema, who would tell me over and over, “Don’t give up…the tiniest little root is all it takes. You just gotta pour love on it.”

This is how people are,too, but sometimes you can plant roses and tend to the roses as they grow and bloom, only to find out that others look at the beautiful roses and only see the thorns.

They may breathe in the scent of the roses, understand the time and work put into establishing the roots, nurturing the soil, making sure it receives plenty of sun and water and is encouraged to grow, but instead of focusing on the beauty, they point out the thorns.

“These thorns can cut. They might leave a mark or even a scar. You could get caught in those thorns and they will rip through you. There’s just too many thorns here.”

Never mind the intoxicating scent. Never mind the way the roses add beauty and color to the garden. Never mind how the roses climb along the bricks, offering shelter and privacy.

All they can see is the thorns.

I think that’s one reason I don’t really like roses. I always think of roses as high maintenance flowers. They are beautiful but they require pulling on gloves that reach to my elbows, using special tools, wearing shoes and tip toeing around as I work.

I’m the kind of woman that likes to reach into the garden with my bare hands, picking off dead leaves, pulling up weeds, digging holes and laying in plants without giving any thought to thorns that might cut me. 

I prefer to stand with my feet in the soil, turning stones over with my toes, wiggling down and using my body as a tool instead of looking for something that might make it easier, but won’t feel as good.

I may be “good and sore” as my Mema would say at the end of the day, but there’s just something special about the feeling of good, simple, hard work that you can feel and see.

That’s so much like the relationships we have. Sometimes we plant roses, and get distracted by the thorns. Sometimes it’s because others point those out to us.

Sometimes we plant yellow tulips and to our delight, find that a single red one somehow got mixed in the package and bloomed- making the garden even more beautiful.

Sometimes we plant flowers in pots and find that a tree has taken root in the fertile soil   and we know that, in order for it to really reach it”s full potential, we must transplant it out of the confined pot and into a place where it won’t be limited.

Sometimes we have to sit back in a rocking chair and wait and watch for the seasons to change, the roots to get established and the time to be right for the beauty to grow, show up and ssurprise us.

Just remember…anything can grow if you pour on the love and attention….and you can grow beauty or only thorns….it’s all in your hands and in the way you choose to look at the garden of life.

In This Chair

Here I am

in this chair

once again

being still

in the presence

of the One that created 

every living thing

In this chair

I find such peace

gentle and soothing

reminding me

that I am created

loved and chosen

set apart to be

just the way I am

In this chair

I let go

of all the “what if’s”

and the “why’s”

that tried so hard

 to clutter my mind

fill me with doubt

stir up old wounds

I just surrender

toss the past

over my shoulder

kick away the debris

and open up 

to all the wonders

that have been created

for my pleasure

 pure joy

constant refuge

sacred space

in this chair

where I can lose

and find

get lost 

be found

be loved

and love back




The Hard Way

It had been a long time coming

But still it caught her by surprise

She let her guard down

Just a little

But it was enough

To show her once again

That her instincts were her guardians

Her intuition was her strength

In the chaos

And in the peace

The past, the present and the days yet to come

She had learned 

The hard way

Not to go against

The whispers of her conscience

Tell-tale signs from her body

Sheltering her soul

Giving entrance only to the things and the people

That belonged

On her table

In her heart

Her space

Her life

Held 

Cherished

Known

Loved

In their own ŵay

Seeing Red

When she wasn’t expecting it to show

The red devil came along

Making her crave 

Chocolate and something else

That she just couldn’t put her finger on

It left her hanging on

To the ragged edge

An emotional mess

Of highs and lows

Beautiful chaotic mess

That she couldn’t quite understand her own self

She wanted to be held

And to be left alone

She was glad it came

Though she would have rather

It choose different days

But the familiar presence

Was a reminder

That she was still

Young enough

Fertile and voluptuous

Every inch a woman

Seeing red





She stepped forward

Wrapped her arms around

Placed her hands in the others

Looked into the eyes

Held the wounded soul

In an embrace 

Filled with love

She knew,too well, herself

What it felt like to be

In desperate need

For whispered words

Of courage and strength

To feel another’s acceptance

In an embrace

So she stepped forward

Listening to the voice of the Spirit

Beckoning her to give more love

To say the words that she felt pouring out

As if she, too, was hearing them

For the first time

Because sometimes 

When love is given

It is received back

When a step is taken

It creates a path

Towards such a beautiful place

A state of mind

Place of peace

Sense of purpose

Clarify and grace 

All from an embrace

That lasted long enough

To begin to heal

The wounds of both of them 

Something Else

 New soles and new shoes

Jeans,  pants,and a few more shirts

A real good reason

A need and a want

Money well spent

But still

Could have been

Something else

A need and a want

Money well spent

A real good reason

But still

It was something else