Harebell

      Foamy white clouds drift lazily through a brilliant blue sky, silently slipping their violet shadows over the early summer landscape. The waves of dark and light make the land swell in rolling emerald waves—a shimmering sea of jewels.

      Swaying playfully in this ocean of green are dozens of blue-violet Harebells. The whispery soft and delicate bell-shaped blossoms, with their five-pointed edges, look to be made of translucent blue tissue paper. I am certain they would disintegrate if even a drop of rain splashed on their sides. Slender pale-green stems rise from crowns of lance-shaped leaves, holding the blossoms up in the fragrant summer breeze.

      The Harebell looks like an elfin hat that a woodland fairy might wear. It captures my gaze and takes me back through the years to when I was a child. I remember trying in vain to catch a glimpse of those elusive sprites that I was certain lived and played among the foliage and trees in the nearby woods. Alas, I never saw one, but I knew in my childhood heart they existed. I just had to be on guard and employ my best sleuthing techniques to seek them out.

      I do not remember when I stopped searching, or when my child-like imagination was silenced and I no longer believed in the unbelievable. There is a part of me that misses that state of sweet innocence and wonder, and I realize how important it is to hang onto some part of that eternal child. The part of our spirit that is optimistic, sweet, affectionate, and young at heart. The part that is touched by magic and fantasy.

      As children, our dreams and imaginations spilled out from our little hearts and souls, barely contained within our excited earthly bodies. We sprang out of bed each morning, eager to get out and explore the world. There were simply not enough hours in the day to get in all the important discoveries we were trying to make. I know I would have found those fairies with the Harebell hats had it not been for my 8:00 p.m. bedtime! But as we grew older most of us lost that youthful enthusiasm. We became all too aware and concerned about our image, and what other people thought of us. We put aside what we perceived as childish nonsense, and strove, en masse, towards our duties and responsibilities.

      Our lives are not always as fun as they used to be. We laugh less, we explore less, and because we allowed the dark, heavy burdens of our adult world to weigh us down, we grew old. And we did that without even realizing we were losing a very special quality.

      Let us reawaken that child-like enthusiasm, and rekindle our imaginations that have long been silenced by our terribly important, grown-up lives. Be kind. Be curious. Get excited about things. Learn something new. Shower unconditional affection on those we love, not because we expect anything in return, but just because we can. Be generous with our smiles and laughter. Show the world our warmth and tenderness. Our world will be a much better place if we all allowed our inner child its rightful expression. Begin again to wonder about the mysteries in life. We have not discovered all its secrets.

      I am certain the Harebell knows the whereabouts of those fairies. Let us all go out there and see if we can find them.

      Forget-Me-Not

      Take a moment to close your eyes and imagine the purest shade of blue you can. A hue that is crisp, soft, and wonderfully simple. I am certain the color of the Forget-Me-Not is exactly the shade of blue you have in mind.

      These plants grow abundantly in the foothills. Delicate sprays of miniature blue flowers stand twelve to eighteen inches high on pale-green stems. They have the cutest blossoms one could ever imagine, with tiny pale-yellow discs surrounded by five perfect little blue petals. The soft hue is so pure and fresh, it greets the eye like a soothing breeze on a hot summer’s day.

      The name of the Forget-Me-Not speaks to the lesson this beautiful blossom has in store. And although poets in the past wrote of it as a token of affection between lovers, we can look at it as a reminder to never forget our past, and to understand and recognize where we came from.

      Our personal history is the rich soil in which our roots are embedded, and regardless of what lies buried there, it is the ground from which we came. How we grow today is our choice, but looking back can provide tremendous insights into the path we have chosen for ourselves. Peering into the past lifts a veil, allowing us to discover the intricacies of our unique personality. And not only can we excavate the depths of our own persona, but we can also discover the richness of our family’s history.

      Looking into that history can reveal wonderful and exciting discoveries about the time spent with family and loved ones. But for those who had difficult past experiences in their lives, it can be a very painful exercise. Nevertheless, in order to move forward, we must sometimes look at where we’ve been.

      What circumstances influenced our decisions? What did we have control over, and what did we not? Which family behaviors and traditions do we want to carry forth into our own lives and pass onto future generations? Which behaviors and traditions do we want to see end? Were we lifted up and supported, or did words and actions from our loved ones tear us down? What made us stronger? What continues to eat away at us and rob us of our power today?

      Rooting through our past can help dislodge deeply held negative thoughts and feelings, which we can then confront and deal with. Fortunately, for those who find doing any of this too overwhelming on their own, there are many counseling resources available in communities and online to help guide them through.

      If it is not possible to look back at our past with loving smiles and a happy heart, then perhaps we can look back with some understanding. When we delve even further into our family’s story and see what the childhoods of our parents or caregivers were like, it may help us understand what shaped their behavior and made them into the people they are.

      Did they have loving influences in their early years? Was there a lot of pain and anguish? Did their little spirits retreat from an unrelenting stream of abuse and mistreatment? What did their lessons in love look like?

      It can be very difficult to shower love and affection on someone when your own wellspring of emotion was never filled or replenished. We learned how to express love and kindness from those who expressed love and kindness towards us, but if our caregivers were never shown how to do that, how could they possibly have loved us the way we needed them to?

      The more we understand how and why our family members behaved as they did, the clearer the path towards forgiveness. We must remember, however, forgiveness does not mean condoning behavior. It simply means we understand where that behavior comes from, and we make the decision to no longer let it influence us.

      When we are flooded with the memories from past negative experiences, it is important to allow ourselves to completely feel the emotion of it. Conjuring up painful memories is a very uncomfortable process, but they are just memories, and the actions that precipitated those feelings are no longer present. We are in control now and we are safe. Once we allow ourselves to feel the pain, then we can release it. We can cry it out, scream it out, pray it out, or just close our eyes and imagine the hurt draining out of our bodies with each exhaled breath. And each time the pain rises up, we can acknowledge it, feel it, and release it. If we fight the emotions and try to block them