Like so many people, I’ve made wishes on dandelions gone to seed for as far back as I can remember. Even firmly set in mid-life, this feels magical: You pluck just the right one, full and round, envision your wish, and blow all the seeds free with one breath.
Some say that if any bits of seed-fluff remain, your wish won’t come true. I tend to quickly readjust my expectations, and begin bargaining (oh look now I get 2, 3, 4 wishes!).
I’m fully aware this is childish and futile, but I do it all the same. I know nothing will come of this act, beyond the exercise of bringing to the forefront of my mind those things I deeply desire. No one is granting wishes. No entity is ignoring wishes. These flowers are just going to seed, sometimes with the aid of my breath.
Still, ritual is comforting, and some rituals are harmless.
I am in the midst of a very difficult time in my life. Once again, I’ve come face to face with the very real limitations of wish-flowers. It’s easy to feel like I’m forced to be a spectator in the painful events played out by troubled people acting poorly; financial uncertainty; deep sadness for myself and my children.
Worse than the actual drama unfolding outside myself is the awful sense of insecurity that comes with having the rug pulled from under my feet. I’m all too familiar with that feeling. Having been in situations and relationships where I was made to feel ungrounded throughout my life, I’ve learned some things about myself.
I believe in the kindness of the human heart. I believe we are here to connect, and to love. I believe we are capable of learning when to walk away from those who only offer barbed-wire hugs.
I don’t want to allow the failings and shortcomings of other people to turn me into someone who can’t trust.
I do not believe in predetermination; there is no all-knowing figure pulling strings. The idea that things are “meant to be” is a drug that does not soothe my heart. But I do think there is something to be learned from every experience.
There is always work to be done, growth to be had.
It is my nature to seek equanimity. I feel determined to not lose my shit.
I have no control over other people.
I have little control over circumstances.
But, I can control my own behavior. I can control my response. I can calm my breath. I can choose to engage, or remain silent.
In this moment, when the ground is unstable and mayhem abounds, I remind myself:
Recognize what is.
Bear witness to the emotions in my heart.
Accept what is present in this moment.
Consider what can be altered.
Take no shit.
Contemplate the cost of fighting the tide.
Adjust my stance to allow for the
possible probable aftershock.
And continue to see the beauty and simplicity in the ritual of making wishes on flowers.