The Way of The Rose; To Love is To Live.

In the 90's I was asked to research and co-write a book about the healing properties of the rose. It was to be a study of the historical importance of the rose across many different cultures. Having not long finished a BA (hons) in Classical civilisation, I was accustomed to tackling historical research and enjoyed writing factual pieces. The project was highly appealing to me; like many people, I loved roses; the scent, the oil, the colours. I had my own stories about the rose too. A deep connection rooted in childhood; my nana (who died young, 52) had adored her beloved roses and, as a child visiting her garden, I gathered the fallen petals in a bucket to make my first magic potions. I loved doing this, but little did I know, that they would become the basis for my first company - The Butterfly Effect - organic hemp and flower water products that I handmade in my kitchen! I don't need to try too hard to reach back in time and smell those pungent perfumes of my childhood.

If I close my eyes, even now, the heady scent of my nana's fallen roses shrouds me; heady, intoxicating, enchanting. I believe scent works in this way, taking us to past times, healing us, carrying us, soothing us. The rose in particular is like that, for many people, for a reason. (But, let's stick to the story - I'll write more on the rose another time!)

I worked really hard on the book project and my coauthor seemed extremely pleased. She put my name on the cover alongside hers, it was 50/50 (she said). We picked out a beautiful Sufi quote for the back of the cover, and a stunning illustration of a deep pink rose for the front. She didn't want to find an agent. She planned to print it herself. I didn't question her plan. I trusted her implicitly. She was twice my age, a healer (she said); I trusted the process, I trusted her. She had the final say, and I thought that was totally cool. I was in my twenties and quite frankly a bit of a hippy. I trusted everyone back then. Sadly, the resulting book was of questionable quality and my co-author disappeared off into the ether. I didn't get paid. It all felt like abit of a sham. What a waste of time.

Fast forward to 2023. I receive a message from an old friend who informs me that my co-author (who shall remain unnamed) has rereleased the book; she's changed her name, and the best bit - she's completely missed mine off. There's not a single mention of my hard work. I tried to understand why she felt entitled to do this, but ultimately I felt pretty pissed off.

How would you feel?

Anyway, whilst I was processing this little 'kick in the teeth' , I moved through some negative feelings, but then I noticed that I started to feel sorry for the lady who had left my name off. Perhaps she had felt desperate like the hobbit in the Lord of the Rings with its precious ring. I realised that I wasn't angry at all. In fact, I wished her well. Surely the true way of the rose is to do so?

I began to notice roses popping up everywhere. A lovely friend gifted me some gorgeous rose oracle cards out of the blue; someone else left me some roses on the doorstep 'just because'....

Was I starting to feel the healing powers of the rose? Was my forgiveness teaching me something deeper about the true nature of the rose?

Surely trying to hold onto ownership of universal symbolism is just wrong, and furthermore it's impossible - the rose belongs to us all, and to none of us.

So, next time you pass one - do stop and take a long deep sniff; be grateful in that moment for the magic you get to share (and remember it's not yours!)