I was thinking of what to give to you my queen. Something that would show all that you have done for me. And I all I could think of was a flower. But not just any flower, a rose.
I’ve always wanted to give a rose to someone. I could never justify the reason to. Do I have to always justify the reason? Roses have a beauty to them that is unique. A beauty that which the florists attempt to take away. The florists always cut their thorns off and throw them away. People don’t like getting pricked by something so beautiful. But in a shocking way, the rose reveals everything that is depressing and harsh about life and then offers a way of liberation from the suffering. People just ignore the suffering that comes in life and want to just dismiss it at every point. It’s too challenging for them, too difficult. So they throw away all of life’s challenges. This is ignoring the problems.
Another reason why the florist cuts off the thorns of the rose is that people want what is already perfect, what is already mended, what is already in perfect alignment with themselves. The rose is not in perfect alignment with any one. The rose is its own unique individual. The rose is not afraid to reveal its brokenness or ugliness. And through its ugliness, it finds its own genuine beauty.
The rose is symbolic about everything right about this world and everything wrong about this world at the same exact time. The florist is symbolic of an abuser. One who wants to coerce you where you don’t want to go, where you cannot go because it is not you. The florist does not accept for who you are. To give a rose without the thorns is to indicate to you that I only want to take in the good parts about you, but the stuff I don’t like, that needs to change. The rose with the thorns is symbolic of this world, it is symbolic of me, it is symbolic of you, it is symbolic of all of us. We are beautiful creatures as part of a pointless world that gives us ugliness. We are beautiful in the midst of ugly.
True love does not seek to sever the thorns. True love is to work with the thorns and to find that the beauty is among the thorns and not that the ugly is in intruding on the beauty. When we assume that the world is by its very nature perfect, we complain that it has all of these ugly events going on in it. When we assume that the world is by its very nature imperfect, we rejoice that we can find any beauty in it at all and we learn to savor the beauty not as an object but as to what it really is. Only in starting ugly can we ever begin to realize what beautiful is.
I shall give you a rose. I shall grow a garden and give you a rose. I want to. It is meaningful. I want to pluck the rose myself. You can accept or reject and I won’t mind. I remember plucking flowers with my grandfather and my little sister before as we were preparing for a family reunion. We plucked the flowers and we set them up in vases on different tables as we all celebrated being together as a family with our cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone. It was wonderful. I will leave the thorns on the rose. It is far too indicating of our own inner darkness to not leave the thorns on.
I don’t mind being pricked. I know I will be pricked. I will pluck the rose without wearing gloves. I hate gloves any way. There starts in you your imperfections. But from these imperfections, the immortal queen becomes beautiful. I don’t mind the imperfections because I know the beauty stemming from them is captivating. Neither have you minded my own imperfections for you have given to me something that which I don’t think I ever would have found again without you. The rose is me. The rose is broken and has pain, growing in a bush of turmoil, but it is still beautiful.