For the many teachers and mentors in my life:

I had no idea you planted something inside me. I thought you were simply sharing the fragrance of your passion with me. Little did I know you dropped a seed at that moment. You pushed it down and covered it up with other stuff, knowing you would never see the fruit of your labor, understanding it needed to be dormant for a while in order to be strong later.

"Seed" by the yes man via Flickr

I had no idea you watered that seed, giving it the nourishment it needed to sprout. You knew just the right balance – not too much, not too little. Perfect and clean, you refreshed and opened my absorptive mind.

I had no idea you shone so brightly on that sprout, turning it outward and helping it push its way in every direction. With invisible yet powerful rays, you motioned me to look at you and forget about the other things around me. You focused my attention.

I had no idea you cared so much. When I thought you were rough, you were actually pruning me and clearing the weeds from around me. You helped me get out of my own way and cleared those deceptive shoots, actually choking me, so new growth could emerge.

Looking back, I had no idea how many people toiled and sowed into my life so one seed – numerous seeds – could grow deep roots of ardor, develop vivid blossoms of action, pour sweet fragrances of compassion, and bend with heavy, nourishing fruit of care. I had no idea the “sudden” bouquet would remind me so much of you and that planting, watering, shining, pruning, and pulling moment. You knew exactly what you were doing.

I see it now. Thank you.

Thank you for helping me grow.