Life is too short for boring stories

The roses were blooming. Various reds, yellows, and orange tones sprinkled the courtyard with colorful paint stains, and a beguiling aroma exhaled the flowers. Again and again you walked through the ranks of the flowers, still with everyone standing to see their growth. Nothing more, just see and be let.

“Is not it fascinating how they grow, unfold and fill the whole court with life, without a word, quiet and gentle?”, I asked, as I stepped beside you.
“As often as I have already seen and experienced, I am amazed again and again how life breaks and unfolds itself, quite by itself without any action,” you confirmed me.
“And should not it go faster? I mean, are not you impatient?”, I asked.
“Of course, I am impatient, but the plants need time to grow, the leaves and the buds to open the flowers. I cannot do anything, just wait and see,” you replied.
“So you cannot get the idea to pull the leaves, grow faster, pluck the flowers, cut out the branches, get the shape you’re imagining?”, asked I further.
“Why should I do that? This would just destroy the plants,” you said fully.
“So would you destroy the plants? And you mean people do not break when you walk around them and plaster them and cut them all the time in Façon?” I continued.
“Sure, people are also broken. You should leave them as they are and not make them into a unified English garden,” you decided.
“And why do you do it all the time? Why do you always want someone to be different than he is? Why do you constantly try to manipulate and influence? Why do not you allow people to be and to be amazed at being different, the miracle of diversity? Why do not you even think of what flowers are for you?” I explained.
“Because I want to help and support. I cannot watch if someone makes a nonsense when he runs his eyes open, or just makes stupid things,” you replied.
“Even if you are not asked for help and support, even if the other thinks that it is his way, no matter how stupid or unconcerned he appears to you?” I remarked.
“Yes, but I want to be there for the other …” you tried to justify.
“By patronizing him and saying that you can handle his life better than himself?” I interrupted you.
“But I still meant it well. What else should I do?”, you ask confused.
“Exactly what you do with the roses,” I replied.
“I’m not doing anything,” you replied.
“Nothing, nothing. Let me be like you let the roses be. Let life unfold and find its way, and you’ll see, you’ll be amazed, too,” I explained.


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