Fragility

My friend Kara gave me a book that is helping me with the emotional state I’m in. It’s part self-help, part humor, part coloring book. It’s full of great reminders for me.

Today I was reading along and came to a page about dandelions. The author, Jenny Lawson, explains how she always thought she was a dandelion, and certainly this resonates from me. Back in my National Writing Project days we had a saying: Don’t be afraid of the lawnmower. We even got dandelion shirts.

Lawson describes the dandelion process, how just when it is given up for dead “it explodes into an elaborate globe of spiderweb seedlings so fragile that a wind or a wish sends it to pieces.”

She continues:

But the falling apart isn’t the end.

It depends on the falling apart.

Its fragility lets it be carried to new places, to paint more gold in the cracks.

I always thought I’d like to be a dandelion.

But I think, in a way, I already am.

I feel each day I’m facing my fragility anew. Every day there seems to be a new level of falling apart. I rated my mood today as “okay” and said I felt sad, fatigued, grieving, and powerless.

Yup. Fragile.

I woke with the intention of setting small goals and reaching them. I allowed myself to lie in bed yesterday afternoon, watching television, reading, and napping. Taking care of myself is a necessity, not a  privilege.

I want to start feeling the falling apart as a more positive experience than I have been thinking it is. There have been so many adjustments this week, and there will be many more coming. My friend Annmarie said the other day that maybe being strong isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. (Not a direct quote!) Perhaps I’m forcing strength in an unnatural way for this situation. 

Maybe I just need to trust the process of the dandelion. Let myself have bright yellow moments, break through the cracks moments, blow it all away to a new life moments. 

I’ve had a lot of each this past week, now that I think about it. It’s easy to remember the frustrations, but it’s okay to remember there were good moments, too.

And I’m reminded of a song by the Rolling Stones:

Dandelion don’t tell no lies

Dandelion will make you wise

Tell me if she laughs or cries

Blow away, dandelion

[Fun fact: Keith Richards has a daughter named Dandelion.]