A while ago Tony brought me back a magnificent bouquet of tulips from
the garden of a client where he was working. The tulips began as tightly
closed buds and transformed, day by day, into luscious opulent blossoms
basking in fully glory in the sunshine streaming through the window.
Each
day brought a new beauty, until slowly, one at a time, each flower, having
held itself in complete openness for what seemed like would be forever, gradually began to shed its petals, one by one. And
in the latter days a newer beauty emerged from the skeletal lines created
by the stalks and the starkness of the remaining petals drying on the
stem.
I will leave the flowers on the table until their life cycle is done, because, as I myself begin to become more aware of the changes in my body and the signs of aging take place amongst myself and my friends, I am acknowledging that we too have a certain beauty at every stage of our lives. Maybe not the expectancy of youth, or the bursting forth of our stellar years, or the bloom as we come into maturity, but still a quiet and majestic beauty all of our own, if we are willing to see, and celebrate, it.
