Thread of Purple
Dear Friends,
Between the paving bricks of
the walkway leading out the back door of my home and the landscape bricks
that form the first level of a tiered flower garden, a small plant has
come to grow and bloom. It is a pansy growing from a seed that has blown
here from the previous fall. As I clear the weeds that pop up between
the bricks, my heart will not allow me to remove this flower. Although
its petals do not carry the vibrancy of the original blossom of the
previous year, it is stunningly beautiful in its simplicity. The
five petals that form each blossom are pure white gathered together
in a deep golden center. It appears as if someone has taken watercolors
and with a paintbrush has drawn faint lines of purple from the center
of yellow to the outer edges of each petal. The edges are gently ruffled
and the color purple pools at the edges of the top two petals, forming
a royal crown. It is a delicate, fragile appearing blossom, silken to
the touch. There is something about this brave little plant that draws
my attention. It is tenacious in its will to survive and thrive. It
perseveres in very difficult conditions. It is rooted in sand during
an unusually hot, dry summer. In spite of these obstacles, the
plant’s compact form has brought forth nine blossoms, each beautifully
shaped. The plant stands firm and proud. As I would greet this
pansy, I would feel regret that this plant had the misfortune to live
out its life in such hardship. Then one day it occurred to me that I
was not doing justice in my relationship to this flower. I was not acknowledging
a life being lived to its fullest where it had come to be rooted. When
I reflected on obstacles and dwelled on regrets, I was not being fully
open to the beauty and grace this flower brought into my world. This
plant is a gift. And as a gift, I am being called to appreciate the
beauty of this plant for each moment it graces my life.
The next morning after this
realization, I wake up with a distinct feeling that something inside
me has shifted. I feel different. I realize the color purple has been
working in my life for some time now, weaving a thread of love and mystery.
A few years ago while dealing with my own sadness, I became lost in
a cloud of regret. I began to focus my attention on past hardships and
present difficulties. It is grace that help comes into our lives at
these times. I felt the respect, compassion, and kindness of those around
me. They had the understanding and patience to reflect these qualities
back onto me. I had an oil painting made of the bearded iris, two deep
purple blossoms standing strong in a field of green, to remind me of
the love that held and sustained me at this time and that was also always
present within me. This painting graces my home. And now, once again,
the royal color purple comes into my life in another form. The beautiful
flower growing in the walkway has reminded me to stand strong and proud
in the life I have been given. It is a gift of love. It is a reminder
to focus on the beauty. When I look at my life through the eyes of regret,
my heart clouds over with sadness and I turn away from the love that
is mine. In those moments I forget who I am and where I came from. My
life is a gift. Just as this flower has a story to tell, I also have
a story. At this moment our lives have touched and our stories are woven
together. There is significance that we are here. This summer I was
fortunate to attend the Broadway musical, The Color Purple, while in
New York City. It is a story of love. Today my heart sings along with
Celie, the hero in The Color Purple, “I’m beautiful. Yes, I’m
beautiful and I’m here.”
With love,
Diane Evans
