dandelions

The little dandelion from long ago was so yellow, so small, so innocent looking. She had also developed a unique way of dealing with shock and surprise. The weather could be a surprise, and the audible whispers of those who apparently loved green more than yellow. Her developed strategy was to create and release a tiny seed-like puffball one stress and worry at a time so she could return to peace and radiance whether she was appreciated or not.
Over the years, each time a dandelion let go of stress she became a bit more strategic about her survival and day-to-day living. She had less time to enjoy the sunshine, feel her yellowness and appreciate her seasonal life span. Instead, she spread herself thin by releasing her stress seeds, banking on quantity to survive!
She could really survive just about anything, but she needed the support of her kind, rain, sun, and occasionally, maybe, hopefully, the appreciating eye of those who gazed upon her to shine bright. This neediness compromised her simple beauty and she often felt liked even less.
Now weather came and went as did insults along with an occasional compliment about her sturdiness. She puffed and spread and hoped that a field of yellow would change how she felt but it did not. It just made her more capable and strategically prouder of her color.
Many, many years later there was a new summer dandelion that somehow knew things that all her predecessors had forgotten. She remembered that she was a member of the sunflower family and that her flowers, leaves, and roots had been used for food, medicine, and even dye for thousands of years. And most importantly, she humbly remembered that people blew on their puffballs of stress to grant wishes and send dreams and thoughts to those they love!
In knowing this she felt the ground take her roots, the sun warm her petals and she relaxed into a full season of glorious color. She surrendered to all those little shocks and surprises, taking refuge in her place on the earth and under the sun.
Today dandelions can be called weeds and they do not care. They can hear voices of complaining and shine just as bright. They can take all the little shocks, and still know from where they came and what they are capable of too. And so now they only develop one puffball at the end of their season – full and proud for anyone to place their hopes and dreams upon. Whether they do or not, the little dandelions all know their place wherever it is that they land in the big, big world of surprises.