June 24, 2011
One who knows the rose
has breathed its sweetness of breath,
felt its prick of thorn.
Within the circumference of our microcosmic Garden are all the pleasures and all the pain, all the giving over and all the taking back. We too often try to separate these, metaphorically remove the thorns from the rose stem, but we only make the rose vulnerable to disease or attack. (We have had deer in the early spring chomp on our awakening and self-protected Grootendorst roses. It couldn’t have been a very comfortable dining experience for the deer.)
We clumsily dissect the Whole World into this and that, us and them. We do it, wittingly or unwittingly, all the time. And then we make judgments and set this against that, and us against them and fill the divided world with nothing but clamor and confusion.
Here at the heart of everything, it is best to courageously leave that which is one alone [all one] and enjoy the sweet silent sound of togetherness.