On my kitchen counter
Tucked off to the side
In its own corner of the world
Is a ziplock bag full of milkweed seeds.
They have been there for well over a year.
I think they journeyed to me from my Mom.
It’s been so long that when they arrived
They looked completely different.
Contained and flat
In the safety of their pods.
The silky, white, fluffy lushness
Has grown and expanded
Filling up any remaining empty space.
And it’s bizarre
Because I haven’t made one single wish.
It was different when I was younger
I was generous.
There’s a part of me that hesitates.
Is this worthy of a wish?
Do I really need that?
Am I in enough pain?
Do I deserve that?
And when I really sit down and think about it
The answer to every one of those questions
We can accept the hard parts of our lives
And come to terms with our own individual
Challenges and sufferings
Without being limited in our wishes.
Our acceptance and our bravery
In the world as adults
Day in and day out
Should not only be complimented
With the ability
To make as many wishes as we want.
To dream of impossible things.
To hope when the odds are against us.
And to wish
For things to be different
Even when we’ve already accepted them not to be.
And that’s ok.
That’s acceptance with room for honesty.
That’s logic with room for feeling.
And that’s being an adult
For being a kid.
And we should never
Forget how to be kids.