Organically growing things is perhaps one of the most satisfying things. It reminds me that forcing decisions top-down will never work. That no matter your plans, growth is only possible when connections are created between things, between people, that are based on mutual recognition. That foster truth and honesty. That allow for openness and diversity.
Some seeds may be planted with good intentions, but when given soil full of fear and anger and distrust, it will never grow to the full potential. And it is up to us, in our daily lives, to distinguish between what deserves our intention, our effort of feeding, of watering, the seeds that were planted in the right way. It’s not always easy to let go of places that are full of nice intentions that are thwarted by characters, by emotions.
Yet sometimes, seeds you plant, do yield results you didn’t think were possible. Like the ones I planted before I left to Shanghai, two months ago. And which were cared for by a loved one while I was away.
It takes time. And sun. And water. Patience. But with assemblage of the right ingredients, with the absence of one or two subversive parts that counteract the effort of the rest, it is possible to enjoy something that is so much more than what you had considered possible. I wish every project that starts out for all the right reasons, would be able to make sure they have all these elements in place. So it will thrive.
And yes. This is not about salad. (Although the salad is not a lie.)
Growing things is great. But reading short stories is maybe even greater. Read all short stories by @nobyeni at her website.
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