Remember my post the other day about eating dandelions? Well here is the continuation of my dandelion encounters. This time I am not eating them, but wishing upon them.
I don’t know about you, dear reader, but for as long as I can remember, I plucked dry dandelions from the field or garden, puffed on them and made a wish. Nobody explained to me why that had to be, but I did so happily because it was somehow far more elegant and enchanting than blowing soap bubbles. Some believe that in doing so, we are also sending positive energy and good dreams to loved ones far away, which is something I can relate to.
It took me a few years to reconcile these delicate fairy balls with the yellow flower and when I did, it was life changing. Sounds a bit melodramatic, I know, but that lesson taught me that ageing and withering did not always have to be a dull and dreary process. The simple dandelion teaches us that transition from one stage in our lives to another can be elegant, wistful, playful, and of great service to the world.
Think about it for a minute: what do we accomplish by blowing the dandelion seeds? We guarantee that there will be new dandelions to follow, thus affirming the circle of life. In the same manner, ageing is not to be feared, for it is finally our chance to share our experiences and impart whatever wisdom we have accumulated with the arrogant youth that we once were.
When I wish upon dandelions, I close my eyes and inevitably wish for something for myself, but also wish the small seed fairies a good journey in the universe, with the fervent hope that some good will come of it.
Wishful thinking? Perhaps, but dandelion wishes are always chalked up as a good deed in my book. My mother always said I had to do three good deeds a day, and these do not always have to be elaborate and dramatic. Indulge in childlike moments, and do your soul a good turn.