Someone recently sent me an e-mail with the following quote in the signature:
“And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
These words come from Anais Nin, a writer whose journals contain more than this one beautiful quote. I printed it out in 24-point type and taped it below my computer screen.
These days, I totally relate to Nin’s sentiment. I feel as if I’ve long ago begun to allow the bud that is my professional potential as a writer to begin the process of opening. I have given each petal permission individually, hesitantly, cautiously, to begin to loosen its grip on the bud. Now, the process can no longer be controlled. The petals release themselves from their tight cluster with abandon, spreading themselves wide, and the bud is quickly looking more like a bloom.
There’s an energy that has been released in the process that won’t allow me to go backwards. Oh, part of me would really like to go backwards, like when I rewind a movie I’ve recorded. It would feel much safer to be in that bud, but my inner self, my soul, won’t let me do that. It keeps pushing me forward, making me become what I am supposed to become. It persistently offers me new inspiration, more commitment, a higher level of desire. And now, indeed, it feels more painful to remain where I’ve been than to move towards where I’m going. I can do nothing but flower.
Now, will that flower be one seen by the world? I don’t know. Will it be seen by some? Very likely. Does it matter? Well, as a writer, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t matter to me at all. However, the main thing is that I fulfill my purpose – to help others through my writing and speaking.
And isn’t that all a flower does when it blooms? No one has to even see it blooming, admire it’s beauty or even smell it’s fragrance, and it still fulfills its purpose – to grow, to bud and to blossom.
Why then, when a flower fulfills its purpose seemingly effortlessly, is it so difficult for us humans to do so? Why has it felt like such a struggle to find an agent, to sell an article, to obtain a book contract, to increase the size of my mailing list, to enroll people in my classes? Why does my life, at every turn, seem to make it even more difficult with lack of time, financial issues, family responsibilities? And why do I balk, feeling not good enough, insecure, afraid. Oh…so many days I’d love to go back into that bloom. It would feel so much safer to be there now. But the bud never remains a bud…unless it dies I bud. I don’t want to die a bud.
I remember taking a human potential class where we talked about “unfolding.” The result of our fear of exposing ourselves and being who we truly are was described as “folding up” like a piece of paper. We were told to “unfold.” Little by little I’m unfolding, but that is a process that to some extent I can control.
The flower within me, however, is uncontrollable. I seem to have no choice at this point but to blossom – unless of course I allow the bud to whither and die on the stalk. I don’t think I can live with that…it would be too painful. So, like Nin, it seems the day has come when the risk of remaining tight inside the bud is more painful than the risk it will take to blossom.