The Flower of Life

The texture of a rose is almost flesh-like with its waxy consistency.  

Why does a rose have thorns?  I know the scientific answer to that, I'm speaking metaphorically.  The rose represents so many things in our culture: youth, beauty, love, maturity, youth when it is a bud, and it is typically what we plant around the graves of loved ones in solemn remembrance.  We have taken, admittedly, a lovely plant and flower and made it represent ourselves.  Why not some other plant?  Why not the orchid?  

The orchid is delicate and finicky.  It cannot bloom unless kept in the right environment, and under the right conditions.  Not the ideal plant that I would want to represent me.  

Gardenias are another flower that could represent us.  Similar in texture to a rose, but a bit less delicate.  More purity represented with the white color, but less variety, as it only comes in the one color.  It can be a challenge to grow.  I have had them die on me a number of times no matter how hard I worked to keep them alive.  But roses can do the same.  

They need specific growing conditions, and protection during times of trouble.  They must be defended from parasites, those that wish to feed on it even if it means the death of the host plant.  We have all met people like that in our lives.  Sometimes we know it immediately, other times it takes years to realize that the person you have been spending so much time with, defended to your family and invested so much in to build a future with is nothing more than an aphid sucking you dry.  There are many comparisons to be made between ourselves and the plant world.  Is it any wonder, then, that we have chosen one of that world to represent us?  Think about this plant.

It is hardy, just like we all want to believe of ourselves.  Though, there are times it needs help and protection to make it through harsh times.  I have experienced some of those recently.  I am lucky enough to have a home to come to at the end of a day that is able to shield me from nearly any storm, and infuses me with new energy to be able to make it through the next.  These are all powerful, and accurate analogies.  But what about the thorns?

I don't like to see myself like that.  I know some people that are definitely that way.  You can see their fierce, piercing thorns warning you off from a mile away.  Something about these people seems to say, "Get away and keep away unless you want a face full of prickers, buddy!"  It is also important to remember that not all roses are the same.  The red rose from my garden above has some of the largest and most abundant thorns of any rose I have ever seen.  I can only clip flowers from that plant with some very durable gloves.  On the other hand, I have a lovely little yellow rose bush whose thorns are few and petite.  They occasionally remind me that they are there, but in so mean a way as to draw blood.  

Thinking of it in this way, a rose is the perfect metaphor for the human condition.  I will think about my thorns, what kind I have with which people and if that is really necessary.  I want the large, scary thorns with the aphid and japanese beetle type of people, but I want the, "I'm barely there," type with everyone else; and, of course, I want to change between the two at will with need.  Does that make me a rose bush super hero?  Maybe.  

Then again, maybe I don't have to be a rose at all.  I can be a California Poppy instead.  I have no need to protect myself, as every endeavor to hurt me will just make me grow stronger.  I will continually be sending up new shoots, and encouraging new growth all around me.  I will blow with the wind, bloom beautiful yet simple, buttery, sunshine-colored flowers, and I will come up every year, ready for a new summer.  

What kind of flower will you be?