The Flaw

The steps to my home are perfect. There are five steps and they are made of red brick. They have metal railings on either side that are painted the same color as the brick. Each step is 16 bricks wide except the bottom, which is 18 bricks wide. Leading up to the steps is a short path which, although not perfect, is nice enough and can comfortably accommodate two people walking side by side. There are normally a few leaves that have settled on the path from a fair number of trees close by. But the leaves never fall on the steps. I am not sure why, but the steps are always clean. They are always perfect.

One day last week, as I returned from a series of seemingly endless errands, I saw something laying up against one of the steps. This was very unusual...a blemish on the third step. Since I was carrying groceries I decided not to kick it off the step and risk losing my balance, and within a few seconds of opening the front door the flaw on the steps was completely forgotten.

Over the next two or three days I noticed it each time I returned home. I never noticed it when leaving my home because it was sort of tucked under a slight lip of the steps, and I have learned the hard way that it is important to pay attention to where my feet are going while descending stairs. Then the day came when I approached the steps without anything to carry, without any reason to hurry, without a distracted head full projects and their attending minutia. It was time to find out why this leaf would not leave.

Kneeling two steps below, I could immediately see that the flaw on the steps was not a leaf that could be simply brushed away. It was a very small plant that had found the thinnest sliver of a crack between bricks to sprout its roots and begin life. It had small green leaves that grew in a tight bunch, which explains why at eye level it originally looked like a single leaf. Rising from the base of the plant were a few slender stalks which anchored sprigs of small leaves all the way to the tip. Its lower leaves were the largest and they were a reddish-green color. Going up the stalk, the leaves became smaller and greener until, at the tip, they were very small and bright green. The tip also held a great surprise. In fact it was the tip of the plant that changed everything.

Bending as close to the plant as possible, just a few inches from my eyes, was an exquisite light-blue flower sitting on the the tip of the tip. "Wow," I thought. This was unexpected. In an instant my impression of this flaw on the steps went from rogue leaf to wondrous beauty. What appeared at arms length to be a simple blue flower was, on closer inspection, an intricate pattern on four petals with an explosion of blues, whites and light purples. A small white dot in the center was really a splash of white-yellow-green, and it formed the launch site for a few elegant stamens that shot out like rocket trails. I was truly mesmerized. It seemed like an entire world unfolded from out of nowhere.

Of course, I let the plant be. Some of you experienced gardeners might have already guessed that the plant I found was a Corn Speedwell (Veronica arvensis), a relatively common weed. Even though it is considered a weed, its fortune, tenacity and beauty could not be denied. It deserved to show what it could do. The flaw turned out to be beautiful when viewed from a different perspective. More importantly, it surprised me. It awakened something in me that I thought was already awake.

I consider myself to be open minded. I try my best to look at things through other's eyes. However this little weed showed me that I still have a lot to learn. I have always believed that there are many things, even entire worlds, out there that I have never even heard of, but I was sure I would recognize them when I saw them. So I am not surprised that this flower showed me a new world. I am surprised that I let my assumption rule my belief. I thought I had become more aware of my surroundings, but this made me wonder what else I might have overlooked in my everyday life. Maybe it was time to review other "flaws" in my environment.

Without going into details which, I am sure, would not be of interest to anyone but me, suffice to say that I did some deep breathing, briefly meditated and then reflected on what I considered to be flaws in my current situation. Being a fundamentally positive person, I don't usually give these flaws much thought, but this time I studied them carefully. I tried to separate the part that I found flawed from the rest of it. I tried to find the flower in the weed, and once again I was surprised.

Each flaw that came to mind had an upside. When I considered what would change in my life after removing a particular flaw I realized there would be some relief and also some unexpected consequences. It would definitely be bitter-sweet. This weed has served to remind me that flowers are everywhere in nature. However, like most people, I will continue to try and eliminate flaws. After all, that is what we do as a species. That's how we progress. But the next time while I am waiting for the Universe to reply, I will take particular care to search for the hidden meadow. It might be full of flowers.

 

The picture on the left is "The Flaw". Unfortunately I only have one surviving shot of it (that's another story). The picture on the right is a typical Corn Speedwell blossom. Amazing, isn't it?