A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin.
(H.L. Mencken 1880-1956)
Flowers on people’s desks at the office: E’s fabulous nail art, Lydia’s lovely coasters, a cup of tea. Call me a cynic- but I always look at both sides of any picture. Where there are flowers, I can’t help but look for a few thorns. In Mencken’s words, a coffin, maybe. But people forget that there is also beauty in death. I’m being an optimist here, if you can believe it. The way I see things, dying is a form of returning to the Earth; coming home to your Father. Going full- circle.
So when one thing ends, there is always something else that begins.
Gracefully accept this concept; peacefully succumb to continuous change… because while it is terrifying, it is something as natural as life itself.
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