A flower and a rock

Posted: 1 de July de 2012 in Sin categoría

This metaphor came to my mind as the easiest way to explain it. You can see the beauty of a flower, you can see the life inside of it, you can see how with its beauty makes a garden looks better, and you can choose whether you keep it in the garden shining over the rest of the plants or if you take it with you to your house, to make happy to your mom, your wife, your girlfriend. Maybe you will feel compassionate, touched by the beauty and fragility of this flower and you choose not to remove it from the land.

Now think of a rock. If you choose to pick it from the ground you don’t have to think it carefully. You can throw it away, throw it in a lake (to see it jumping, like a little frog before it sinks), or you can throw it to the window of your friend so that he hears the noise and checks who is outside. But do you think that rock feels? No, why would you think that if we were told that rocks aren’t alive, like a flower definitely is? How can you be compassionate with a rock if it doesn’t seem a logic, normal thing to do? How can you be compassionate with a person whose heart is like a rock? There has to be a way even if it doesn’t seem clear, let’s say I’m trying to figure that out right now, and meanwhile I came to this metaphor sort of musing… since I see it so hard, I put this up to the Lord, in his hand. You, my God, you know what am I talking about, You know how important this is to me, and I desperately need Your help on this. I beg You, Lord.

Long time ago, when I was telling something to my godfather, I pointed out something about myself: “I know things (I’m aware of them) yet I need to be told”. What I’m going to tell now is very, very intimate… Last night I was in the concert of Martín Valverde, a Catholic singer. He has a song called “A qué esperar?” (What to wait for?) And it talks about the importance of forgiving and healing before the person we are angry at, full of rancor or hatred dies or we die. I have a lot of issues with my dad and though I’ve heard the song before, this time it hits me. Then I had a thought but it felt as if it didn’t belong to me: “Si tu viejo se va…” (if your old man leaves…) I’ve never think about my dad as “my old man” so definitely those words weren’t mine, I believe where His, were from God. I didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence though later I tried to imagine what would have been those words. My dad may be winning the battle with cancer but he is 75, I can’t expect him to live 50 years more, and I don’t have “a life” (all the time in the world) to fix my relationship with him. Yet is a complex situation. Dear God, please help me on this.

Oh, and for the record, on the metaphor, let’s put it as simple as this: my mom is the flower, my dad is the rock.

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Comments
  1. I especially like your last sentence.

    Lynn
    http://www.writeradvice.com
    Author of You Want Me to Do WHAT? Journaling for Caregivers

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