(Damselfly visiting the Tyler Arboretum. July 2007)
The finest qualities of our nature, like the bloom on fruits, can be preserved only by the most delicate handling. ~ Henry David Thoreau
I’ve been thinking a lot about delicate things lately. I’m in self-improvement/-reflection modes, something that is seasonal with me. As the harvests begin to come in, I take a look at the seeds I planted in the early spring to see how well they’ve grown. Or not grown, as the case may be.
Some things have grown quite well, blossoming and blooming, coming to fruition. Others were either stunted due to lack of care or never made it past the planting stage. And then there are the weeds, old habits creeping back to clutter up my garden. A few of those are balanced out by the unexpected flowering of something I thought I’d forgotten or given up on.
I often forget that the things I learned when I quit smoking can be applied to pretty much every self-improvement project. The most important of those lessons was to nurture and nourish my quit on a daily basis so it could and would continue to grow and strengthen. Even more than six years later, I still wake up every morning and say to myself, “Just for today, I will not smoke.”
It was a delicate thing, my smoking quit, especially in the beginning stages. It’s still a delicate thing because it would be so easy to decide on a lark to have just one cigarette to see if it still tastes and feels good. I get the occasional cravings and cigarette hauntings. The ghosts of cigarettes past hang more in my dreams than in my waking mind these days, but they’re still there.
Of course I know I can’t have just one cigarette. Or even one puff of one cigarette. No need to remind me of that. I mention this because I know someone out there might want to remind me. I don’t have anyone in particular in mind. It’s something that happens whenever I mention cravings or thoughts of indulging in just one cigarette.
Recent reminders of lessons learned fall under the category of unexpected flowerings, beautiful blooms that suddenly popped up where I’d forgotten I’d planted something.
The seeds of those serendipitous blooms will come in handy in the future, as I get ready for my autumn and winter plantings.
This is lovely … inspiring and encouraging. The thought of “unexpected flowerings” makes me smile.
My kids found some exoskeletons on the weekend. They were quite fragile and due to circumstances came apart. Sometimes things like that happen.
I don’t know that my comment is really relevant to your post. Seeing an insect close up reminded me of the kids “examining” the exoskeletons.
very, very, very inspiring and encouraging to me too!
answer: the first won’t taste or feel as good, so you’ll have a couple more until it does, so keep up the stellar work and don’t even have a puff!!!
keep up the blog, good stuff.
bongo, of course your comments aren’t relative to the post! are they ever? i’ve never seen a persone use the workd “i” and “my” so much. robin is pouring it out and you find a place to share more of you. she’s talking about quitting cigs, show some freaking support for crying out loud.
*sorry, ugh*
Haven’t read yet.
That photo just poppped out, very vivid, Robin. I ‘ooooed’ and ‘aaaaed’ aloud.
k, now read and very little to say except your writing seems to reflect daily nurturing as well, those thoughts tied together beautifully.
Fishy: Thanks for your encouragement. Nothin’ wrong with Bongo’s comments. In some odd way, I find them relevant. Sometimes things like that do happen. And not to worry. I can stick up for myself if I find I don’t like someone’s comments.
Amuirin: Thanks.
I think here fishy fishy was joking and took no offense.
I’m wondering if the label “Damselfly” was there when I was here earlier and I’m just a space cadet or if you added it. It doesn’t matter really. My wondering will pass soon enough.
I have found a thing that I’m not fond of with the new layout. The little post info window occludes the photograph.
Oh good. I wasn’t quite sure. Hard to figure these things out when I’m just getting used to new folks visiting the blog. Thanks, Bongo.
And apologies to Fishy. No more lectures, even short ones, from me.
Damselfly was there when I first posted it.
The little post info window is annoying, but I don’t know how to change it (if it can be changed).
I’m a little confused by the whole fishy thing. I’m not sure if there are two beings using fish related names or just one. Also, I don’t understand much that either of them say. Oh well. I think they’re well disposed to me but I’m not really sure. I think they came here via bibliomom but I’m not sure of that either.
new to this wordpress thing, a browser on a machine still thinks i am just a commenter and not a blogger, so my old name will pop up if i forget to log-in as an account holder on all machines.
my apologies, yeah bongo irks me, bad, but i think he does that to quite a few people so i won’t think too much on that one. i told myself i wouldn’t do the internet thing if it was too hard for me not to be drawn into such things, but like that next possible cigarette that submit button is just too close. fortunately i only hit the submit button.
i hope you understand now, i’ll be good, sorry about the slip!
OK. I guess somethingisfishy dislikes me. I was completely unable to tell from the things he/she writes. I am aware that there are some people who quite dislike me. To my knowledge most of those are plagiarists but maybe there are others.
So, thanks for the defense.
The little post info window doesn’t show up when viewing your whole blog and when viewing individual posts, the text is narrower than on your full blog so it doesn’t cover up any text. It is only when viewing a post that starts with a photo that it is any sort of problem and one can get around it (if one really wants to be able to see that corner of the picture).
I like you bunches, Bongo. I think most anyone who has the opportunity to get to know you the least little bit would like you.
First time I saw the picture, I didn’t think the little post info box was there. But the photo really captivated the attention, so maybe I just didn’t see it.
Thanks Amuirin.
I like you too.
I don’t know about the fishy one. Something fishy there. He/she just left a comment on my blog that seems to be praising me though it is hard to make out whether it is. I don’t think a flamewar is likely to erupt between us. I just don’t get him/her and that’s OK with me.
And, back to the photo. Yeah. Deadly cool. Even though I was first drawn to the damsel fly, I don’t think that’s the coolest part of the picture. The plant is vibrantly alive and the one sort of torn/half eaten leaf and the other with the hole in it call to mind how a being can be so full of life and yet irrelevantly damaged at the same time.
I like you too, Bongo.
Thanks for the comments on the photo. I’ve always thought imperfections add more character to things and life. Besides, I don’t know anyone or anything that is perfect, but maybe I just haven’t been lucky enough to find perfection.