The Nest and The Dandelion

“I am here for a purpose, and that purpose is to grow into a mountain, not to shrink into a grain of sand. Henceforth will I apply all my efforts to become the highest mountain of all, and I will strain my potential until it cries for mercy.” ~ Og Mandino


As bothersome as they might appear to some, dandelions are quite interesting little flowers. Aside from their indisputable medicinal value as a natural diuretic, they are also very fascinating to observe – after living a short life as pretty yellow blooms, they morph into curious-looking, fluffy puffs on green stems, so delicate and light that even the softest spring breeze will carry their spores and deposit their seed on new ground.

At first thought, their purpose seems fairly ordinary: they sprout, live and reproduce, and then they die. But if one looks a little closer, and, like me, is fortunate enough to stumble upon something unusual, the dandelion’s purpose suddenly appears a little more interesting and, if you will allow me, a lot more meaningful.

As I was trimming one of the bushes in front of my porch yesterday, I found an old bird nest from last year. I gently pulled it out of its leafy enclosure and laid it on the porch railing meaning to throw it out when I was finished. As I carried it, I noticed a couple of tiny pieces of egg shell, a few gray and brown feathers, and, of all things, a few dandelion spores carefully pushed between the small twigs as if to provide insulation. I initially thought that maybe they had been carried and deposited inside the nest by the wind, but upon closer inspection I realized they had been part of the original construction project.

As meaningless as that discovery might sound, I thought it was extremely touching. The dandelions whose spores were used by the birds were not aware of this unusual turn of events, and died peacefully after letting their seed go off with the wind; for the baby birds, however, the soft, downy spores could have been what kept them comfortable and warm in an unsuspecting partnership of nature. And of all the pretty flowers that could have fulfilled such an important task, dandelions took home the prize; nature’s most humble - and often unpopular - little flower had a greater purpose to live than it was ever aware of.

Humans are no different. We are born, live and die, and all along we try to live our purpose as we perceive it. Many of us get downhearted at times, as comparison with some of our more fortunate peer leaves us feeling as if we are wasting our lives. We look at the roses among us with a silent sigh, and admire their beauty, and their fragrance, thinking that no matter how hard we try we will never be as good as they are. Nobody will ever stop in awe, staring at our velvety blossoms, and some might even step on us, or ignore we exist.

Nobody knows the true potential and purpose beyond a humble, anonymous life, sometimes not even ourselves; and yet, our existence will make a difference. The thorns of a beautiful rose could not have helped baby birds stay warm and safe, but the unwanted spores of an ordinary dandelion surely ensured a few more voices would join the early morning song.

I Know What You're Thinking...

“We simply assume that the way we see things is the way they really are or the way they should be. And our attitudes and behaviors grow out of these assumptions.” ~ Stephen Covey


My whole family often jokes about the fact that Angel, my parents’ cat, has forgotten he was ever a feline. Let me explain. Aside from living a golden life, the poor soul is given specific times when he is allowed to go out and get back home. No matter what time he is told to be back, he steps through the door at the exact time!

Angel was adopted nineteen years ago into a household of adults, with no children present in the home. In no time at all, he was crowned baby of the family – spoiled rotten and overly controlled. My parents and sister assume they know what he thinks and how he feels, and if I ever remind them he is a cat, from their reaction one would assume I have said the unthinkable.

Of course, as I am writing, I realize that I’m the pot calling the kettle back. Just yesterday, my daughter kept picking up our kitten, and was very adamant that he wanted to play with her – “hiding” into the fridge of her play kitchen was his idea of playing hide-and-go-seek, in her opinion. I told her to leave him alone several times, and then lost my patience. I told her that the kitten didn’t like it when someone picked him up constantly, and he wanted some space for himself. Now, was I reading the cat’s mind, or was I merely expressing what I would have liked in his place?

Our assumptions of what anyone aside from ourselves likes or feels are largely based on our individual perception. Our perception is often molded on a blueprint drawn overtime in our minds, and is hardly accurate or truthful. For example, let’s say that someone runs into a person they like a lot. If this individual says anything nice to them, they immediately assume this person likes them back, even if the object of their affection was merely being sociable.

Similarly, if someone is extremely insecure, they see betrayal lurking everywhere regardless of how loyal their partner is, or how much reassurance they are offered. Ultimately, we can’t assume anything. We can guess, but it would be wise to sit back and ask ourselves if our perception is likely to have been affected by our individual filters, which are created by our upbringing and our sense of self. As Peter Cajander, a writer, once said, nothing has any meaning except the one we give to it - everything simply is.