"Life can be compared to a piece of embroidered material of which, everyone in the first half of his time, comes to see the top side, but in the second half, the reverse side. The latter is not so beautiful, but is more instructive because it enables one to see how the threads are connected together"
Arthur Schopenhauer, as quoted in The Schopenhauer Cure, by Irvin Yalom.
The thing I want to let go of is bound to me, or it seems, I bind it to me.... Just like this dead flower that I bind to this cloth. When the flower rested in a jar on my desk, and was in full bloom, it absorbed many memories clothed in hope. Now the flower is mummified and frozen and what it absorbed has left. Does this psychological binding-up have a meaningful purpose? Is the binding a form of protection (like binding up a wounded arm) or is it a fear of loss (like binding to me what is dead and should be left behind)?... Maybe I bind up this flower to make it a tombstone for my pain. And then I can allow this pain to rest and breathe and be what it needs to be. And to remind myself if I feel, I am alive.