Inside the Spin-Mosaic Studio

I have two friends who are also my comparative adversaries. They are plants. 

They guard my patio chair when I sit with my coffee and contemplate in the morning hours. This morning, I contemplated about them. Then, I contemplated about me. In their silence, a life lesson whispered of the power that comparison likes to claim. And, the power we need to take back. 

Early summer mornings often find me on the front porch holding a cup of coffee. I am alone, but not really.

All others that inhabit my rural-living house have flown away into their agendas via separate modes of transportation: the bumble bee yellow elementary school bus, the bumble bee yellow high school bus, the trendy hype-on-wheels white SUV and the big red truck with a hitch on the back that loves nothing more than to haul anything nautically-haulable (boats) except on weekday workdays.

I'm not exactly alone. My dogs skip around in the front yard. The little one is oblivious to anything but licking her four paws in a shadow-dappled spot of sun. My big dog keeps a close eye on me while sitting pristine with her neck craned under a tree waiting for a squirrel to fall. She might as well wait for the sky to fall.

Adjacent to my porch-side throne stand two topiary plants as astute as guardian soldiers. 

One is lush. The other is disheveled. Side-by-side friends; but, nemesis rivals in the game of comparison.

There is a good chance that they, like my small black dog licking her paws, are oblivious to their own differences.

There is a good chance that they, like my big dog waiting for squirrels to fall, are more attentive than I know.

One gracefully rests within a handcrafted green wooden box with decorative slants and divets. The other merely inhabits it's dwelling begrudgingly---a plain matte-black container that boasts of nothing special but the dust it attracts.

While I---I sit on this brown synthetic wicker chair grafted to my home-porch from the patio set at our lake cabin. It doesn't really belong here. Fortunately, I do.

One slender trunk rises straight and tall. The other leans slightly. While I---I, slouch comfortably in my patio chair.

Topiaries are traditionally joined shoots that grow together. The one slender trunk burrows into the dead center of it's wooden box while the other grew to prefer the northeast quadrant, forever offset and prone to tipping in the wind.

While I---I shift nervously from side to side anxious about the long-list agenda of my day.

The second joined shoot of the one wraps gracefully around the first like a singular ringlet curl. It reminds me of the culminating lift-and-throw in a professional team ice skating routine when the guy throws the girl in the air and she wraps around his gliding body as she descends from the air above.

The other disheveled topiary---the two shoots grew together wobbly as if resisting the tether and each other. Three bands force them close like unwanted bulging knuckles.

While I---I have a crocheted throw wrapped around my shoulders to ward off the morning wind. I don't really need it. It's not that cold. But, I choose to take a piece of the inside of my house with me into the outside.

Branches on the one thrive in a perfect orb at the high pinnacle. Branches on the other are splayed in all directions. Some short, some long. At the belly region near the base, a tangled nest of twiggy vines hang askew in so many directions its almost embarrassing.

While I...have not brushed my hair or taken one peek in the mirror yet this morning. It is no question which I resemble. No doubt that lady down the road who drives to work in her fancy car while I wait with my son for the bus at the end of our road looks perfect every day all day long...

Comparison.

The leaves of the one are a united green front of thriving color; lush and full, plump and perfected. The other holds it's grasp loosely to its one-and-only tiny green leaf among a myriad of remnant crumbling brown. I know there is only one green leaf, because, fearing it was dead, I looked closely.

While I---like most humans, possess a human leaning to compare and place worth in the gaps that I find between and among. Our inner voices, I have found, have a special gifting in the arena of comparison. At first glance, it is clear to assume that one of my topiaries is thriving while the other is...fading and worthless.

While I---know the inside story. I know that it is early summer. Days are warm; nights are cool. My plants have been limited to whatever taste of UV rays remain after the sun sifts through window panes during the snow season. They aren't used to the full force. Wind is absent from the indoors. Temperature changes are neutralized. Each plant's branches and leaves are easing into the transition of outdoor summer living.

These two topiaries are always within view of each other. The one is clearly struggling; while the other appears to be a picture of perfection.

This morning, I was in a hurry. I picked up the struggling one and muscled it out the door and around the corner to where the sun just dappled in the shadows of the overhead trees---not too much sun, not too little. Not too much wind; not too little. 

I took my place in the plastic Ratan chair, wrapped the crocheted throw around my shoulders, and let my hot cup of coffee settle into my cupped palms.

Something didn't feel right. The plant had wind, sun and water. It also needed a friend. Knowing myself, that in the same way my small dog will incessantly lick her paws and in the same way my big dog will wait for a squirrel to fall from the sky all day long, I will not be able to sit here and peacefully soak up a few minutes of quiet, until I go back inside and get this plant it's friend.

So, I did. I brought the perfect plant outdoors and inched them together so that their branches touched and leaves intertwined. There. All is right in the world?

Again, they could take up their stations as the soldier-guardians that they were not. What a pitiful pair. Still, my imagination is captivated. Maybe I will write a blog...and sketch an illustration sometime. Maybe tonight.

More days than not; I feel like the disheveled scraggly one to be honest. My list of frustrations is likely as long as yours. Many people I know have longer lists and greater burdens than I. Yet....one scroll through social media, one trip to the store, one glance in the mirror...and the game of comparison sounds its clarion call.

It is here that I have to mention an important fact.

In the same spirit as the pitiful twig that turned into a beautiful tree to the eye of the beholder in the Charlie Brown's Christmas Special from my childhood...

In the same spirit as the Velveteen Rabbit from the beloved book of my childhood was granted the wish of becoming real after he was well-loved by his little boy...

In the same spirit that God called Gideon of the Bible from the lowest tribe of Israel while he was stomping grapes, "Hello, great and mighty Warrior!", God knows the inside stories behind the front facades. He knows the stories that will become and what helps those stories reach the final chapter and finish well.

He knows why our trunks grow to the northeast quadrant. He knows why the shoot we are tethered to has grown to the side instead of around. He knows why our branches are not centered. He knows why our leaves are a different color than the lush green next door. He knows how much water, sun, and wind is needed for each of us individually to thrive best within the domains of our special peculiarities.

What I know about my two topiaries on my front step that the sojourning UPS guy holding a box, or Grandma dropping off cookies, does not know---is that my struggling topiary is in the middle of it's shedding and regrowth season. That's what this kind does. The old leaves from it's last season go. New buds come.

For now, it looks pathetic, disheveled and nearly gone. Right now, it's future hope can only be found in the form of one tiny hide-and-seek green leaf. But, more will come.

I also know a secret about the perfect topiary...the one on the left that the other disheveled plant is always compared to...and may even compare itself to.

It's not real. Yup, plastic all the way.

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"For I know the plans that I have for you, saith the Lord.
 Plans to prosper you; not to harm you.
 Plans to give you a future and a hope." ---Jeremiah 29:11 (New KJV)

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"Make a careful exploration of who you are

      and the work you have been given,

            and then sink yourself into that.

Don’t be impressed with yourself.

Don’t compare yourself with others.

Each of you must take responsibility

      for doing the creative best you can

            with your own life." ---Galations 6: 4,5 (The Message Bible)