Life lessons lie in layers. It is a long game building individual layers unique to our person as we grow juxtaposed with peeling back layers of those with whom with we grow with. With time comes age and with age comes complexities. The layers of life encasing us in ever expanding experience in much the same way a tree adds rings as it marks time. Good, bad, indifferent, our layers of lived experience mold and shape our true self. They mark our journey, adding dimension with shades and highlights of color. Layers are our memoir.
This is where my mind drifts when I observe flowers loaded with layers. I imagine the story each small piece has to deal. I am tempted to pluck away at each petal, enticed to sit, listen, and learn. Tucked away in each fold are countless stories, some good, some bad—some happy, some sad. Yet even with the hardship and strife mixed in with joy and triumph, it is the great whole rendered beautiful and perfect. The stories of our lives are deep and complex, and all the endless layers lend testimony to that.
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