We end up feeling forced to follow the paths others set up--deviating from the talking points leads to no good.
Even some of the shiniest things, the pretty things, that draw our attention and admiration, because they wax so poetical, can have hidden costs: prickly burrs when the flowering is done that stick to you by the hundreds and ruin everything.
Not everything that you taste, that you experience will have that sweet shock of sugar--sometimes, all that's really there is bitterness.
Sometimes we will destroy the very things that support us and yet defend that same territory at all cost.
Beware the hidden things that burrow in and leave destruction in their wake.
No wonder we have our defenses up and hide our inner selves.
The costs are sometimes too great and leave us worn and tattered.
Promises of rain--of fresh starts--of clearing the air--often remain empty promises.
So we look for peace in the garden, a state of calm and remove.
Sometimes, blooming and sharing wears us out, spends us entirely.
Trying to find the beauty in a diversity of viewpoints shouldn't be so hard.
And each time we do, we leave behind seeds that others will sow.
Perhaps it's a good thing when a path is suddenly closed to us, forcing us to go another route.
Just because others eat at us and pick at us doesn't mean we aren't of value and worth.
Even when it means we lose parts of ourselves.
Not everything requires a hissy fit.
Sometimes, it requires shaking ourselves off and moving on.