Lately I've been thinking about pruning. Perhaps my thoughts stem from inspecting my rose bushes.
Last fall, I pruned them back. As I look at them now, I worry that I was too enthusiastic in my clipping. Did I take away too much, leaving them with not enough to sustain them through a harsh winter? I don't know. What concerns me even more, though, is my personal pruning. There, I worry that I was not enthusiastic enough in pruning back my weaknesses and sins.
Take my unrelenting resentment of certain individuals. Certainly I have not been enthusiastic enough in pruning away my dislike and resentment. Then there is my disappointment in those who don't live up to my expectations, including myself. Once again, not enthusiastic enough.
In a few more months, I'll be able to see if the roses will bloom again. My personal blooming will take longer--years, decades--before I see the results there.
Joy for the day: accepting that pruning must be done, both in roses and in lives.