Sunday, April 16, 2017

If Dandelions only bloomed in rare places, they'd be more valuable than orchids.

I always thought I'd like to be a dandelion - 
those vivid yellow flowers that bloom
in the cracks of sidewalks or abandoned lots.

Anything that thrives in such strange, broken places holds a special kind of magic.

It shines bright and golden for a moment
before it withers,

but then -
when most have given it up for dead -

it explodes into an elaborate globe of spiderweb seedlings
so fragile that a wind
or a wish
sends it to pieces.
But the falling apart isn't the end.

It depends on the falling apart.

Its fragility lets it be carried to new places,
to paint more gold in the cracks.

I always thought I'd like to be a dandelion.

But I think, in a way, I already am.
 Jenny Lawson 

This was just the reminder I needed this weekend 
about the resiliency in 'falling apart'

and the truth that what appears to be 'the end' 
rarely is. 

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