As the frost began to build up on my moustache; I came to the conclusion that perhaps I should have gotten a hamster instead of a hound dog. The icy wind was piercing through my winter coat, rendering it completely ineffective. It was a humid spring morning turned into a frozen wasteland by the incoming cold front. In the meantime, my adventurous dog was impervious to the temperature, the beneficiary of an oily undercoat and thick fur!
Right now I could be sitting inside with a steamy cup of black coffee and the companionship of my keyboard. The thought kept rolling around in my cold-numbed mind. Yes, I could simply set the hamster in his wheel and watch him get a quick morning workout. Instead, I was out on the tundra with the ice princess. Still, on warmer days there would not be much benefit to taking a fifty foot walk with a hamster. Besides, where would I find a leash and harness small enough for my proposed pet rodent?
I am blessed to have events or situations present themselves to me as I trek into the great outdoors; tethered to reality by a leash. By the time we get back home an hour later, I have typically written an entire blog post in my head. That day was different, as I wrestled with a lack of inspiration. Perhaps it was the weather, I pondered. It is difficult to get that great flash of awareness while your teeth are chattering! I would like to think that my creative well is overflowing with thoughts waiting to be written. Was it possible that my well was beginning to run dry?
Xena was sniffing about near the tennis courts at the large urban park we so often frequent. Certain that she had found some new doggie treasure, I looked around at the frost crusted ground. It was then that I saw the strange sight. Laying on the brown grass were three roses. Two had been arranged to form a perfect X. The third bisected the crossed pair from top to bottom. Ice crystals reflected the deep red of the petals as the early morning sun shone down.
As we trudged back home, the image of the roses pervaded my thoughts. Had they been cast aside by a frustrated lover; his romantic offering spurned? That did not seem to fit with the fact that they had been so carefully arranged. Had the flowers been carefully laid out in tribute to some long since departed friend or relative? That did not add up either! Surely there would be a better place to honor somebody with a floral offering. Was this a secret sign to be understood only by initiates of a hidden and obscure society? I shook my head as I realized I was writing the first chapter of an espionage novel!
A good month later, I am recounting the experience in these very words. It strikes me that the roses did indeed have a special meaning to whomever arranged them so carefully. It does not matter what the intent was; those flowers have served a purpose in my life. They led me to think, to question, to imagine, and to create. I have to wonder what effect they might have had on others who by sheer chance passed them by.
We are all relentlessly pursuing the precious gift of inspiration. We seek something that will allow us to share of ourselves and to better the world around us. Too often, we force the situation. All of us struggle to understand events and situations; looking all around for a way to make a positive contribution.
Yet when you open your eyes, when you turn off all of your filters, when you bare your soul to possibility; that is the precise time that inspiration finds you. Once you realize that the most important things in life are not meant to be found, but rather that they are meant to find you; anonymously arranging three roses in the middle of a frost-laden park makes perfect sense! See you at the floral shop!