closeup of a vibrant pink rosebud with subtle raindrops on its unopened petals

GROWING

“Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.”

― BRENÉ BROWN, DARING GREATLY: HOW THE COURAGE TO BE VULNERABLE TRANSFORMS THE WAY WE LIVE, LOVE, PARENT, AND LEAD
Because of this little flower, this rosebud that is striving, I am remembering who I am.
I am in bloom.

I stepped outside this morning with my little one. It has been raining here in Nashville for days and early today there was a little reprieve from the nearly constant downpour. My kiddo occupied himself with finding all their favorite rocks and splashing around a bit in puddles found in chairs and between paving stones. I checked my plants for flooded pots and damage from the downpour.

That’s is how I came across the rosebud. Through days of storms, and torrential rains, this soft little rosebud has had the audacity to not only grow, but to prepare itself to actually bloom. The rain has been hard, the sky has been dark, by no means has there been optimal opportunities for growth. This rosebud doesn’t know what the days ahead may hold, it only knows that now is its chance – now is the time to become its full version.

I thought “Well, shit. This is the lesson.” This is what I needed to understand. Vulnerability. This rosebud will not hide its beauty, its truth, just because the world isn’t perfect. Instead, it is doing what it is meant to do. It is opening its soft petals to the sun and the rain and the birds and the insects – its heart will be exposed and, in the end, it will not survive.

But it doesn’t hide from its power. It is drawn to BE. To be its most beautiful. Its most precious. To be its most full, and fully-formed, self. It will not hide its truth, its beauty, its SELF, for any reason. It will grow, bloom, and then die in a tiny corner of the world – unseen by almost anyone. However, it will provide much for those who do. It already has for me.

Because of this little flower, this rosebud that is striving, I am remembering who I am. I am in bloom.

The world outside is full of frustration and anger, disease and unkindness, of broken things and broken people. I have been lost in this – my own power and beauty being stamped out by people who will never see me. Or SEE me.

But that is none of my business. I have been, I am, still growing.

And I am preparing to bloom.

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