"The grass is greener where you water it."

My aunt recently gave me an analogy to give me some perspective.

Imagine you have a violet.  When you first get the violet, it is blooming and beautiful.  You water it diligently every morning.  One day, however, you get way too busy.  You forget to water your violet.  You pass by the violet and notice that it's okay--it's gotten a little bit dry, but is still so beautiful.  You go on to your next task.  The next morning, you remember that you forgot the day before, but move on to do something else swiftly so that you can continue with your day--thinking the violet will be alright for one more day.  You pass by the violet and notice that it's a bit drier than the day before, but it still so vibrant and pretty.  But, you move on to feeding the dog or going for a run.  You forget to water your violet.  Late the next evening, you wake up with a start and think to yourself:  "I've got to water that violet tomorrow!", because you forgot again today.  You wake up, brush your teeth, walk by the violet and notice that it's wilting.  It needs water.  After 4 days without it, the violet is dying.  You've got to water your violet.

I've thought repeatedly about this analogy, as corny as it is, over the past couple of weeks.  There have been days when my violet has been in full bloom and days where I've called my aunt to say:  "The violet is dying."  To which she replies (the way only she knows how)  "Kaia!  No it isn't, you've got to water your violet!"  While it seems like some kind of family joke, I can't tell you how relevant watering that violet is to my life both in my current situation and, looking back, every thing (good and bad) that has happened to me.

You see, my violet wilts when I get too busy and focused on things that don't matter--like, worrying about things that are out of my control, wondering what people are thinking about me, caring about the kind of clothes I wear or how I'm presented, and times when I'm not taking care of myself.  I talk a great game--most of my friends will tell you this--when my violet wilts.  "Nope, I'm going to start taking care of myself", "Yep, I'm going to start doing that today!", or "I'm going to water my violet!"  (I don't actually say this, because I'm pretty sure they would look at me and think I was on my way to the crazy train)  But when it comes down to it, getting myself to get the watering can and water that violet---woof.  You can't imagine how heavy that watering can is sometimes.  Or the pit in my stomach that is produced after I see how wilted my violet is.

Gaining new perspective after hearing this story about the violet, I've come to realize (though I know at times I have a tendency to forget) that I have to water my violet.  This means being my authentic self that lets her violet out to play and bloom -- not just Thursday-Sunday -- but all the time.  Do you know how liberating it feels to be honest with someone?  Do you know how freeing it is to dance with your 8 and 10 year old cousins through the grocery store?  To provide warranted advice to someone who really needs it?  To visit with aunts, uncles, friends, and parents about struggles while being honest about what your heart feels?  Try it, I promise you, it will change your heart.

Last weekend I visited with my parents overnight.  I wasn't looking forward to visit because I had to come clean about some financial issues that I absolutely did not want to talk about.  I spent the majority of my visit sleeping because I was dreading the conversation that I knew was looming on the horizon.  I fidgeted during church and couldn't bury the pit that was in my stomach because I was so ashamed of the hole I had dug myself into.

The time came where my Mom said, "Luther, do you want to talk to Kaia about money now?"  To which he replied:  "Sure, Kaia.  Sit down."  I gulped, took off my shoes (no shoes in on the new carpet!) and sunk into the couch.  I had my guns blazing and my shield up--ready for the war that was about to explode because of my transgression.

You know what my Dad said to me?  "What do you need?"  I sat there--shellshocked, I think--after preparing for what I thought was going to be WWIII, swallowed a lump in my throat and said:  "I just need some help getting back on my feet."  Instead of bashing me, berating my choices, and undermining my transition into adulthood, my Dad bit the bullet for me and provided financial help and advice to someone who didn't deserve it.  Do you know how much feeling loved can water your violet?  A wilting, near dead violet sprung up in my heart and was in full bloom.  The fight I prepared myself for was completely avoided and though I know I've got to work on a plan to compensate my parents for the contribution--my crisis for the moment is averted.  My violet was watered.

Recently, I got an email from a dear friend of mine.  After weeks of "Kaia's lost" conversations, the ugly girl cry, and me not walking the talk I was talking--she had had it with me.  Her email, titled "Tough Love", was difficult for me to read.  You know why?  Because through each beautifully thought out and clearly concerned sentence, I recognized that I have not been watering my violet.  I had disdainfully been avoiding the violet--like I put a sheet over it every time I passed by--and allowed it to wilt and nearly die, without bothering to even think about the pit in my stomach that was a result of it.  That friend provided me a wake-up call that was so necessary for me to have.  I wrote her back, but the words I wrote seemed empty to me after I reread it.  However, I am so grateful for that wake up call because she watered my violet on that day.  She ripped that sheet off of it, exposed it for what it was, and helped me move forward.

It's funny--because there are those days when you know YOU are responsible for watering your violet. You've got to get up earlier than normal to cultivate it and take care of it--watering it and watching it grow.  But, there are those days when you are unable to get up and water it by yourself; there are days when you forget.  The funny thing that I'm learning that makes my little heart soar with joy--there are people in this life that are set up to water that violet for you.  To provide nourishment for your soil, to provide sunlight to your petals.  Whether the water is harsh and cold, the sun warm and glorious--they will water that violet to prevent you from wilting.

I cannot describe the growth and love my violet has gotten this summer.  While sometimes I'm sure it gets extremely annoying for those folks who have to water my violet for me, they continue to pick up the burden of that heavy watering can and do it.  They will go out in the scorching heat to make sure that my violet doesn't wilt.


Today, watering my violet is all MY job.  Kaia's violet is first today.  And watching it bloom?  Now that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

Keep fightin' that good fight!