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Monday, January 20, 2014

Thorns

Humanity is plagued by certain things. We all have our thorns that dig into, causing us to think that if this or that were just plucked out of our lives, everything would be perfect. I have thought that so many times: If there were just one adjustment to the bad to make them bearable, or the good to make them great, I would never want for more. I could finally heal from the poisonous, toxic thorns that keep me from the utter joy of life.

Why are there even thorns? Seriously, why do rosebushes have thorns? They are flowers. If they get attacked by some crazy rival flowers that have attained awareness, then yes, I understand the defenses. To my knowledge that hasn't happened, so why the thorns? There is this whole mythos of thorns and beauty and taking the good with the bad and I just wonder: is it really for my sake; to somehow equip me to better enjoy the roses, by walking through the thorns, or is it just something stupid that roses have got going on?

Every princess has her tower, and a dragon that guards her. Every mountain has avalanches? (I don't know, just go with it) and every rose, truly does have its thorns. But what am I supposed to learn about life from this?

I have written and thought extensively about how the struggles in life cause you to determine what is worth persuing. Is that princess worth possibly dying for? Or does the dragon steal your full measure of resolve? I think I get that. If there were no "thorns" then every decision would be meaningless: risk would cease to cost anyone anything and perhaps even things like love or devotion would be forgotten in the face of safety and lack of pain. This poses the question: would I even know a rose is a rose without its thorns? Would it just be lost among the myriad of defenseless plants? Is that why giving a rose means more, because you have to go through the thorns to pick one?

What about other thorns? What if its just something you must live with and can never really do anything about and it just makes life miserable without any clear indication why? I guess a better question would be: where is the rose in all these thorns? I'm fighting the dragon, but where is the princess? Dare I say, it is good practice? Maybe thats what it is. I don't think I can admit that to myself right now, but maybe thats it. In addition, maybe the battles we fight on our own are how we love ourselves. Maybe the dragons we fight alone are the dragons that keep us alive. 

I don't know how it works, or why bad things happen, or why these thorns terrorize the radiant power of joy. I don't know why the dragons we all face always seem like more trouble than they are worth, and why they don't seem to ever really die. All I can do is hope we learn to fight our dragons together, and somehow convince ourselves that the thorns are worth the roses - even the ones we can't see.

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