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This winter, I made a flower of wool and felt and yarn and an old button. Some days - when I awoke feeling blue, when a day seemed impossible to face - I pinned it on. It would remind me, throughout the day, that as long as I was persistent... even in my sadness... I would continue to grow.
It happens in its own time, blooming does. You can't choose when you'll unfurl yourself from struggles or grief or loss or regret. One day you just do. One day you just find that all that time shut away, in the dark, has made you different... new... beautiful, even. And then there you are: bloomed.
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I'd like to have it all. Options One through Three. Who says a (bloomed) girl can't have it all?
But for now I watch. I pray. And I pin on my bloom and wait for things to happen. All good things happen in their own time....
I hope you will go out and let stories happen to you,
and that you will work them, water them
with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom,
till you yourself burst into bloom.
-Clarissa Pinkola Estes