I am living the life of a Transplant. Transplanted into a new garden on the journey called life. I believe that not many of us are so lucky most get left in the garden of their youth.
While my last few blogs have been about flowers, I wondered about the area I am now blooming. How is it that I have a new garden, I am not a new flower, but it seems that I no longer live in the same plot.
A few days ago I happened upon a bloom from the garden of my father's father. It was weird and it transported me back in time to the folks of that era and it had me wondering just who began that garden? Victims in a garden of dysfunction, how is it that I was transplanted out of there? Why?
As I walk around this familiar town, I see fragrances of long past, those tied to my old garden, still unable to uproot themselves, it gives me pause. Mostly what I see are invisible signs, "not this way"...pointing my away from them and their garden.
A transplant no longer fitting into their soil, their plots and stories, and I am still without a firm grasp on this new garden. Well perhaps still not a good grasp on me.
Who am I, and what is my purpose and who do I serve? These questions are tossed my way in the many books that I have read in the last 5 years. Questions, and the answers keep changing.
We never know what makes a transplant thrive, what allows it to take root in the new soil, in a new place. I would like to think that it is a two-way road. The soil has to be perfect, and the transplant has to be willing to stay.
Stay to make it in a new place, with new surroundings, doing new things, with strange soil. Soil that is new and untried, unfamiliar but somehow safe, a clean slate to bloom yet again, welcoming to an unfamiliar guest.
We need each other to be successful, without a place to plant myself, I will surely die, and it will be without blooms, just soil, no flowers or guests.
Gratefully I select a spot, feeling the soils content, is this the place for me, will succeed at blooming here, could it be?
A new home, a new reality, a new garden, a garden of reality! What grows here? Who will I become? What happens upon this new garden? Is it the same? Many more questions for sure!
Guess all I can do is wiggle into a spot, stand in my own truths, and see what reality brings.
Transplanted and eager to see if the roots will appear, will I bloom differently here, will my colors be the same? It seems that no one but me can see the difference or notice the transplant that I am, perhaps the transplanting was done within?
Within? Transplanting took place within?
No wonder no one knows, just as no one could see the abuse. All takes place inside. We bloom inside, we grow inside, and we die inside.
I transplanted myself inside of where? What is different inside me now? It would seem that the old flower bloomed from fear, I bet this one blooms from love.
Love. Inside of me is Love. Self Love. I took the old me and transplanted me into a new plot of soil, the soil called Love.
It seems we are given two choices.
We can either grow in Love or Fear.
And both are done within.
