Tender
Held in Compassion
I just stepped on this bee. I said, “F-ing thing! Get off me!”, and kicked it away. As the pain faded away, I watched the poor bee convulsing as it died. I’m still alive. It is dying. Yes, I am the one who stepped on it. It was no one’s fault. It just happened. I placed it in a soft, pink tulip to rest and cried.
I have done this with my children before as it was done to me many times. Exploded, yelled sometimes, sadly, even cursed at them when it wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. It just happened. Fortunately, these times are much fewer and more far between these days. Because I’ve learned how tender I am. I’ve learned to honor my small, pink, fragile, tender self who needs love and compassion. By opening to this part, I have learned my true strength. I don’t have to be tough. I don’t have to be hard on myself or others.
I just need to love. That’s all it takes to find our way to wholeness. Just love.
May we all find more and more ways to be gentle with ourselves and honor our most tender parts.