the tulip was exquisite. grand and graceful and svelte and without wrinkle. it was stunning – even in its never-blooming. and then…a few days went by. days, in the lives of tulips-in-vases, are years, decades in the lives of humans, i suspect. it held on for many of those days, petals smooth and tightly wound in its bud. and then.

we glanced at it – this vase of flowers on the table – pale pink that had kept us company, had given us pause.

and there, in the place where there had been a tulip, was an orchid.

now, you might argue, that’s not an orchid!

but i would counter that with this: if a tulip – in its next phase – wishes to look somehow like an orchid, wishes to open its petals in an orchid-like ballet – who are we to question it? must the tulip mimic the orchid perfectly? or is the nod to orchid, the bow to that maestro enough?

the orchid, tulip, dandelion theory and study … a categorization of life. are we smack-dab in orchid: highly sensitive, beautiful flowers that need very particular environments to thrive? are we firmly entrenched in dandelion: low-sensitivity, hardy, resilient, adaptable, which can grow virtually anywhere? or are we nestled in tulip: which falls somewhere between the two extremes of the sensitivity scale?

yet i wonder. do we cross over? do we linger in the liminal space between flowers? do we stretch our limbs to touch orchid? do we relax to be dandelions in the breeze?

maybe this tulip wanted a moment to be seen almost as an orchid, to feel almost like an orchid, to experience orchid.

or – maybe – this tulip was part orchid all along.

and i wonder…what i will be in the next phase of life.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. ~ thank you. xoxo