Imagine your life as a vast garden,
Not yet fully grown.
At first,
It was mostly soil.
Some rocky patches,
Some soft earth,
A few places others had walked over before you even arrived.
You didn't choose the layout,
The weather,
Or even the seeds that were first planted,
But you inherited them.
And you learned.
The first sprouts of your understanding came from watching others,
From the warmth of someone's kindness,
From the sting of a mistake you didn't know you'd made.
You didn't have the words yet,
But you knew the feeling.
Some plants grew under sunshine,
And some withered under too much pressure.
As time went on,
Your garden expanded.
You tried things.
Some ideas took root,
Others didn't.
You built small fences to protect the vulnerable parts of yourself,
And then realized some fences kept the good things out too.
You pulled weeds that you later realized were flowers,
In disguise,
And you watered things you should have let go.
This is how we learn.
It's not from knowing the plan,
But from stepping into the unknown and trying anyway.
Relationships are like the changing seasons in your garden.
Some people arrive like spring,
Breathing life into everything.
They teach you to laugh,
To trust,
To stretch towards light.
Others arrive like a summer storm,
Sudden,
Electric,
Maybe even overwhelming.
They stir something deep inside.
They show you parts of yourself you didn't know were there.
But seasons change.
Some people drift like autumn leaves,
Slowly,
Beautifully,
Until one day you notice they're gone.
Others disappear like winter frost,
Suddenly,
Silently.
Even though you miss them,
You realize their presence shaped the soil.
They changed you.
Not every plant survives.
Some relationships are lessons,
More than legacies.
Some mistakes leave scars.
But even scars are kind of memory.
Living proof that you endured,
That you adapted,
And you grew.
You don't need to force growth.
You just need to tend to your garden.
Learn from each bloom and each blunder.
Celebrate the friendships that flourish,
And honor the ones that fade.
Every person you meet teaches you something.
About connection.
About boundaries.
About yourself.
And when something ends,
It isn't failure.
It's fertilizer.
It makes space.
It feeds new beginnings.
You are always becoming.
So stand in your garden.
Not perfect,
But real.
Not finished,
But alive.
And keep growing.
