identity

Even a rose must grow through dirt

It’s a rainy, stormy day in New York City. The storm seems to capture a certain uneasy nervousness in the random people you bump into on the streets and subways.

At moments like these you want to stay in bed and watch old shows and tune out the craziness of the news of the day. But alas I cannot do that. Must head in to doctor and travel on the subways where random people kerp demanding more and more money.

It’s a bleak day. A “dirty” day of unease, trepidation and anxiety. You see it on the faces of those around you.

Although perhaps not completely appropriate, I am reminded that even a rose must grow through dirt.

So for many of the issues that we face l, we cannot let ourselves be extremely phased by them. To become a rose, the process is jot necessarily pretty and obstacle free. There’s always a dirty patch to muddle through.

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