Late last week I finally went out to the front yard and dead-headed the hydrangeas. The gorgeous blooms from a couple of weeks ago had faded and drooped. The bushes looked tired, laden with the clusters of paled and slightly-brown flowers at their base. I clipped and clipped, filling an entire trash can. When I was finished I had a full trash can full of fading beauty.
It was hard not to be overcome with the metaphor: to make room for new blooms, I had to cut way back on the existing ones. The existing ones, which were not at their peak anymore but were still very beautiful. I had to go in and clear space. Clear out what was beginning to fade in order to allow for what was not yet visible.
Isn’t that what we all have to do, all the time? It takes faith, doesn’t it, to cut away what we know is good, even though we understand that it is past its prime, in favor of what we cannot yet see? And yet we must. What is coming is beautiful. I know it is.
What a good reminder for me! I sure do love to old on to the old stuff…
I’ve been watching mine fade and turn colors…love this, thanks.
Your closing paragraph is perfect. IT reminds me of one of my favorite lines in “Into the Woods:” “Nice is different than good.” Just because something is good doesn’t mean that it’s right.
I love these kinds of posts.
That is a lovely metaphor and so very true. It is much easier to hold on to the old, the familiar. New is scary, especially when the new doesn’t look quite as pretty right away – like pruning plants. Thanks for the reminder that in order to grow, there must be room to do so. As Thoreau said, “only that day dawns to which we are awake.”
I am all about clearing away at the moment. And making space. Only I’m working indoors instead of out. How is it possible to accumulate this much and how is it possible not to? Two adults and four children and years and years and years….