We moved into a new house last summer, one with a spectacular garden to tend. This spring has been an exciting time, walking around almost daily, seeing what types of plants, flowers, herbs, and vegetables are growing and blooming. There are bunches upon bunches of lilies, endless fennel, thyme and sage. We have rhubarb, hyacinth, lilacs and fruit trees, and many things that I have yet to identify.
Recently I was making my rounds, inspecting all of the different sections of the garden, searching for new buds and blossoms, when something red caught my eye. A singular red tulip amongst a large bunch of lilies beneath the pear tree.
Tulip bulbs are meant to be planted each fall to grow the following spring. We didn’t plant any tulips in the fall, certainly not right in the middle of the lilies. It’s no big mystery how it got there, it must have self seeded from tulips that were grown by the previous owners, or perhaps a neighbor’s yard, the wind carrying the seed to rest in our garden.
The point is not how it got there. The point, and my interest in this tulip comes from the singularity of it. We are used to seeing tulips in bunches, reds and yellows and oranges, striking and bright, early colors in spring bloom. This lone tulip is a single drop of red in a sea of green leaves and weeds, and is so vibrant that it stands out even more than the many hyacinth close by.
As a writer, it’s so easy to get caught up in feeling like you’re in that swath of green that surrounds the tulip. Each writer using their words to reach the same or similar goal, it can feel like we have no way to stand out from the rest of the garden. Sometimes we get stuck in the weeds, drafting, revising, querying. We get tangled in the sameness that being a writer feels like, identical ants marching along to one singular destination.
It’s easy to forget that we all have our own story to tell. Our ideas and experiences are unique. We self seed these ideas, letting them grow and flourish, at first amongst the weeds and endless tangles of greenery. Yet eventually they will emerge, vibrant, stunning, glowing with red against a green landscape.
Sometimes these ideas surprise even us, as we break apart from the crowd around us, yet remaining encompassed by the beauty of their leaves and blossoms. Our words and our stories are singular, yet they thrive among the community of the rest of the garden.
In short, be the tulip. Find your comfort nestled in among the forest of green, and when it’s time, emerge with your red, your idea, your words. A singular tulip in the garden, beautiful, breathtaking, unique, but not at all alone.
stephanierondeauwrites.com 