Don't hold on too tightly to your dead parts, my girlfriend said to me last year. I had this Clevia plant that I thought was some Christmas flower and it never bloomed after seven years of caring for it. After moving Up Island, I had neglected the poor, pathetic thing. It sat on its perch, collecting dust and turning brown. I finally moved it to a nearly final resting place on the back porch and called Miranda. What do I do with this thing? I can't kill it, but it's useless, I cried to her. It won't bloom and it's getting ugly. She suggested I cut off all the dead leaves, prune it down really good, water it and bring it inside. I took her advice and when I came back Up Island (from a lovely trip to Victoria), low and behold, my ugly little plant was standing tall with a cluster of tiny little buds on a brand new stalk. All of the little guy's energy had been going to the brittle, brown leaves. After seven years of waiting, all I had to do was hack off the dead stuff so it could put its energy into blossoming.

We strive for stability in every aspect of our lives. One secure job, one committed relationship, one group of friends, one grocery store, hairdresser and on it goes in an ever-consistent circle of sameness. The longer things stay the same, the happier we are. We ignore change and act like it never happens and then we're surprised and offended when it does. But we're so depressed. If everything changes, (which scientifically it does) and we are constantly adapting to new events and environments, (just recap the last five years of your life) why is it so hard to accept its inevitability?

Not everything we pick up is worth keeping. Old lovers, childhood trauma, the teacher who said we were lazy, uncreative, slow. We wrap ourselves up in these memories like blankets, but walk shivering down our unbending path, freezing when caught in the headlights of change. Maybe it's okay to like it. I mean, we are free to roam, isn't that why we have feet and cars and cell phones? Perhaps we're not meant to be chained to the same job, same partner, same pain. We are resilient. We bounce back from this and that like Weebles Wobble, reeling and giddy from the safe clashing with the unknown. Haven't you ever shaved your head because things couldn't stay the same but you were afraid to make them different? Sometimes it looks ugly and feels even uglier, but there's something about that smooth nape that promises good things to come.

Love, Leela