Yesterday while walking the dog together, Sarah and I looked for signs of spring. Beautiful blossoms everywhere. Honestly, I hadn’t noticed much of the color before I took the time to walk and take pictures. The vibrancy, the new life, nature’s miracle unfolding and becoming anew, and I had been oblivious. Yesterday, though, I noticed the myriad of colors bringing luminous life to the otherwise sort of drab neighborhood.
In a moment, I decided to capture the yellow dandelion for no reason other than its vibrant color and the way the flower was low to the ground but still such a vivid splash of color.
Now I wonder: why the dandelion?
The dandelion, a pesky and hard to control but vibrant weed.
When I’m criticized, I internalize and see myself as the pesky weed, the dandelion not as the azalea, dogwood, or tulip.
I think of what Jon Gordon wrote about perspective and failure, and I think about the nature of the dandelion. The dandelion is strong, resistant, and hardy. It may not shine as brightly or stand quite as stately as some of the above flowers, but it is in its own unique process of becoming, and there is little one can do to keep a dandelion down.
When Jon Gordon writes about looking back on failure, he explains that he realized that he wasn’t failing that he was instead in the process of becoming. What a great perspective, one that the dandelion close to the ground seems to subtlely state in its strength and its hardiness.
I AM NOT FAILING. I AM BECOMING.
Tonight the frost might kill the tulip and the other flowers, but tomorrow the dandelion will reign. The dandelion is in the process of becoming. Yes, I’m a weed you can’t get rid of–constantly regenerating, growing, and becoming. Take that pesky failure. I am the dandelion. I am becoming.