Hello! I'm an Orchid leaf in a breeze. I'm delicately beautiful,
exquisite in fact. My beauty is the soft, elegant beauty. I frame
and complement an extraordinary flower. I'm its protector. But when
the breeze blows, I can't maintain
The breeze always gets the better of me,
me this way, blocking me that way, taking me away from that which I
must frame, away from that which I must complement, away from that
which I must protect. Try as I might, I can't overcome it. It
breaks my will. I fail. Eventually I give over to it. I
That's when I notice surrendering to the breeze doesn't cost as
it. That's when I notice I'm in better shape when the breeze stops
blowing if I'd
to it than if I'd
it. That's when I notice I've maintained all the
I thought I'd lost to the breeze. It's when I notice I've
to it. It's when I notice I love that breeze.
Hello! I'm a Willow in the wind. I'm bendy. I can bend. But I
never owned my bend-ability (if you will) as a
great quality of mine - at least, not at first. At
first, bendability seemed like no spine (literally), no backbone ie
no strength (that's the macho curse). The trouble is
if I can't bend in the wind, it doesn't go well for me when the
wind blows. I'll be bent anyway, no matter what I may think about
bendability - and that's not totally satisfactory. Then I listened
"Bend little willow, wind's gonna blow you hot and cold
tonight" sings Paul. I know he's on to something awesome:
what can you do if the wind's gonna blow you hot and cold, whether
you consent or not? You can bend! Yes ... you ... can
... Man! That's profound. You're a willow. Your
true nature (waiting for you to discover it for yourself) is
bendability. Ditch the macho illusion. You can bend.
who you really are.
Bend, little willow!