Standing in the kitchen, looking out at a budding crabapple tree, I'm reminded of the huge specimens which graced the lawns of the old school buildings I attended as a child. They offered a place to climb to burn off ever abundant energy and also a shady respite when we tired.
In my mind crabapples are most beautiful the day before they blossom.
The deep rose colored flowers will unfurl soon and when they do I'm transported back to my childhood.
Teachers did their best to keep me interested, but those pretty pink flowers called to me. Soft spring breezes made them dance and sway, eventually sending the petals drifting across the asphalt playground.
I tried hard to stay focused, but eventually my teachers voices faded away and I was once again staring out the huge windows spellbound by the flowers. I enjoyed a thousand daydreams, lived a hundred fantasies and frustrated dozens of teachers back then.
Flowers can be a wonderful tool for understanding ourselves.
In this case, those pretty buds made me realize many of my strengths and weaknesses. Once they become clear, life is a little easier. I joke with friends who spend endless hours in work meetings, explaining to them I just can't do it. For me, it's just like being back in school.
Seeing crabapple trees swaying in the breeze washes away the guilt of being unable to do what others do effortlessly. We're all wired differently and that feels good.
When those buds open all I can do is smile and remember another life, long ago.