Sprout

We planted some tomatoes, coneflowers and cornflowers around a week ago. I've been eagerly anticipating to see them sprout, to see the little cotyledons push up from the soil to meet the Sun for the first time. The tomatoes and cornflowers are already getting taller and taller, but today, I noticed the teeny, tiny seed leaves of the coneflowers for the first time. I got excited about that, since those are my favourite of all of the plants we've been planning to grow this year, but they only had around 60% chance of successful sprouting, so I was worried they might not start to develop - but there they are, still small and pathetic, but getting ready to grow and strengthen.

I feel like a little cotyledon, too.

Life is constant transformation, constant growth. It's about meeting the Sun for the first time, remembering its existence despite the sky getting grey and cloudy at times, despite the rain and the hailstorms. (Despite the stress, the hardship and the loss.) Life is movement, not towards an illusion of stillness and destination, but towards a satisfying journey. It's exactly that constant movement that allows us to keep developing and maturing as people. A place of stillness would also mean a place of stagnancy. To have arrived to perfection would mean there'd be nothing left to do, nothing left to experience. It's good that life is fluid. Like a plant, we also start out pathetic and shielded. Underground, protected by the soil and by the hard cover of the seed. But underground, you can't transform... Perhaps nothing can harm you, but there's no positive change, either. Sure, it's hard and scary to go out there, to put yourself at risk, and your name (and self-confidence) on the line, but there's nothing to be learned by closing your eyes and deciding to be content with how things are. Remaining passive hasn't done a single good thing in my life - rather, whenever I've taken action myself, good things have started to grow. I've started to grow. This growth and development is to a large part mental, as well. We, as people, have the potential to grow taller and closer to the Sun, while spreading our roots to hold us still and keep us grounded and secure at the same time. There's no end to growing. And the cycle of life keeps you alive even long after you as an individual are gone - you'll be visible in the nature all around everybody else, back to the soil you return. Back to the seeds, to the plants, to the other animals. I find it comforting. There's no risk to pursuing if you're not even afraid of death.

I'm only the beginnings of a potential flower, so who knows how I'll be shaped in the future... But at least I'm starting to grow. (So it feels.) There's tremendous potential in everything! Cotyledons are weak and fragile, so I'm hoping the world will treat me well. I'm at that stage in my life that everything is picking up steam - there are so many different paths, so many directions I could go now. Up until this point, I've done the expected; gone to high school, done my schoolwork diligently, worked during the summers, lived with my parents... But since my last exam was yesterday, I'm now able to progress, to choose whichever path I want. It feels like the options are limitless. Infinite. I'm now... a person of my own. Somebody who can finally decide in which direction she wants to go, and in which way to grow. A cotyledon.