There’s a townhouse a few doors down from mine that’s been empty for nearly all of the 15 years I’ve lived here. It’s kind of creepy, except this time of year, when the cluster of daffodils next to the front step burst into bloom in spring.
Robert Herrick used daffodils as a metaphor for the brevity and fragility of life.
I see them more as a symbol of incredible resilience and tenacity.
Growing abundantly in carefully tended gardens here in the northeast, those tended daffodils are beautiful.
I’m more captivated, though, with the ones that pop up year after year, untended, by the side of the road, beside the remains of a stone building that fell into disrepair several lifetimes ago, next to a front step near mine that’s barely been touched in well over a decade.
Those daffodils, planted ages ago, are resilient in spite of not having been tended over the years.
We humans need a bit more care and attention – make that a lot more care and attention – to sustain our resilience.
We need to learn and be intentional about using our strength and values.
We need to know the unique balance that fuels our well being and tend to recalibrating that balance in an ever more volatile world.
We need to constantly look for the positive, so we’re agile enough to navigate obstacles and challenges, without burning energy trying to pretend away the negatives. Which isn’t helpful and doesn’t work, anyway.
Join me tomorrow, Thursday, April 11 for a free class designed to help you tend to and grow resilience.
The daffodils – and lots of other things – are blooming this spring.
It’s time for you to bloom as well.
image: Pixabay; used with permission.