"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy,
they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom."
Marcel Proust
Bombarded by both emotional and physical lessons, the extremes of life were destroying my peaceful garden. Lovely flowers I had planted were being uprooted and weeds were growing at a rapid pace. I knelt by my garden, falling from grace.
My garden was dying and I no longer had tears to shed Shame and humiliation soaked up all of my strength, and I could barely hear the voice within. "Reach out," it said.
Feeling entirely too vulnerable, I entrusted my plight to sisters of my heart, hoping my parched voice would be heard. These loving women immediately began nurturing me until small sprouts in my garden appeared. The inner light of these master gardeners untangled gnarly roots in my heart and produced joy while I was beginning anew.
No comments:
Post a Comment