The Rose = VULNERABILITY “Vulnerability: shaming flaw, character fault or superpower?”

The Rose is begging to be touched; it attracts our lustful gaze with its hypnotic beauty. Its pouting petals spiral toward a dark heart which holds the promise of revelation and release. Roses need care; they respond to love. Rosarians willingly spend their lives in measuring out the exact proportion of rainy to sunny days it takes to produce a unique Rose. Their scents entrance; their softness excites. Roses come in every color of the rainbow and are named after the most famous beauties of history; lucky is the bride whose groom compares her to a Rose, but like a bride her day is short. Florists may press the rose in bud upon us, but my favorite phase is when the petals are just beginning to droop like a child’s trembling eyelids. Exhausted by the flower’s lush exuberance, the plant must rein in its forces for replenishment, in better to deliver future seasons of seemingly endless summer days heavy with their burden of exotic Roses.

Between Soulmates, vulnerability is a superpower. It keeps relationships young and fresh, you will be honeymooners discovering and re-discovering each other forever. Armoring up after damage has always been part of the maturational process. But with the Beloved, the situation is more complex.

In interchanges with our soulmate we preserve our Self in all its forms, infantile, pupil, steward, shaman, judge. We both do, cycling through all these forms by will and by necessity. The possibility of hurt is magnified, but so is the growth, the sharing, the communion. Constant communication is key.

We can’t be surprised if the Other isn’t vulnerable in our exact places, but we can expect them to negotiate with us to map out strategies about sirens and whirlpools. And we reach out to them, even though we may think some of these infantile issues should “be over by now.” We are joined on the Path, each experiencing the Path differently; together, reveling in our differentness. Eternally we honor the tender youth, the frightened child, the vulnerable, ephemeral Rose at the heart of each of us

#HAIKU: The Rose

Pouting lips withhold
the secret;
root knowledge of its own
unfolding