Inna Stasyuk Aesthetics



August 2015



Roses & Weeds

Written by , Posted in Love Life


Once upon a time, or maybe a day or two in the past, I found myself in a beautiful garden enjoying a cup of my favorite  tea. As I slowly sipped my tea, I contemplated life and I pondered upon all that I am within. I observed myself as if I were another, as if I were a stranger I had the privilege of sharing a cup of tea with. I curiously glanced over my thoughts, I gently brushed past my dreams, I heard the whispering of my regret, I bumped into a cobweb of my own hope, desire, and fear, and I met myself exactly where I was. I didn’t judge myself, I just observed.

As I was observing myself from within, I noticed a manicured bush of pink roses blooming near me, I closed my eyes and inhaled the air infused with their sweet fragrance. And as the sweetness of my breath laced into my latest sip of tea, I examined the rose bush. I considered then, the amount of commitment, patience, and hard work a gardener invested into the beautiful blooms. I imagined the care and time a gardener devoted into picking out the right seed, germinating that seed, and preparing the soil for that seed. I wondered about every time the gardened came by to water and to prune the rose bushes. With my every thought, consideration, and wonder, the rose bush appeared more and more beautiful.

My gaze then drifted to a patch of land nearby, strangled by unkempt weeds. I took a moment to think upon the growth of those weeds. No one planted them there, no one watered them, no one pruned them, they just sprouted forth without any hard work, and now they distracted from the splendor of the garden. It took no effort for those weeds to survive, they just did, guided by the circumstances and surroundings that birthed them.  

It was then, in that very garden, in the obvious contrast of roses and weeds I recognized myself. I realized then, that I had the choice of becoming a rose that sweetens the air with her fragrance, or a weed that distracts from the beauty of the garden. For I am, my own gardener. 


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