I went walking midday Wednesday to clear my head and I saw dandelions. Happy, and bright. I thought of the commercials that advertise insecticides. They kill them and call them weeds, but on my walk they were wondrous. Nature calls them flowers. Sometimes in life we focus on labels that leaves us with an inability to see things as they are. Then we can’t appreciate them because our minds say we shouldn’t, i.e “That’s damaged, That’s wrong, That isn’t right.” Worth is a tricky thing to define. But I felt they deserved being flowers. I think they deserved being showcased. I remembered, as a child, racing to grab them in their pod stage. We’d blow them and make wishes. There were fields of them and a strong gust of wind would send them floating into the air like winged pixies. I’d think, “I’m dancing in wishes”— I was in a field of hope. Oh how special and unique I still feel when one comes looking for me. My gleeful attempts to catch the spore and hold a tiny miracle or bit of magic. I blow it away… I send it to the gods, God, heaven, the fates, the creator, Yahshua, or whomever is in charge of making wishes come true. I didn’t feel silly as a kid and I feel just fine with it now.
I tell you who ever judges me in those moments of magi and movement are just missing out!