Wild Lavender and the Fire Phoenix

There once grew some wild lavender. Now normally lavender does not grow wild, but is a very domestic plant, tame, following all the rules. But this lavender never lean to follow the rules and it grew wild and free; well, as wild and free as lavender can grow. It had long stems and flowing sprouts and the aroma was everywhere. Lots of people liked the aroma but did not necessarily enjoy the freedom of the lavender and tried to curtail the wildness of the plant. The lavender resisted all attempts to set limits on it.

In the same region lived a fire phoenix. This was an older phoenix and very wise. He was a free bird and no one messed with the phoenix, but then the phoenix did not bother anyone either. He had learned, wisely, to respect the boundaries of others and to avoid the needless conflicts of the world around him. He lived by a motto, “You leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone.” It worked out well for him.

One day he encountered the wild lavender. He was fascinated by the plant – both by the beauty of the growth, and the aroma it emitted, and the wondrous color of the lavender. Since lavender was a plant and not a being, he began to spend time with it, to cultivate it. He watered it and brought it plant food. He trimmed it and pampered it and the lavender grew ever brighter in his presence.

Yet the lavender was wild and the phoenix was a fire bird and the two would never be close. Eventually the phoenix realized the plant would always be wild and could not be tamed. No matter how much attention he paid the lavender, it continued to grow in sporadic manners and could not be brought into boundaries.

There came a day when, in the middle of a field, apprentices could be seen compiling a giant funeral pyre of wood. Logs of all sizes were brought forth from miles around and added to the pyre. Kindling was inserted at the base and the pyre was set in the cleared field. People began to gather. They came from the villages and from the farms. They came from near and far. A phoenix rebirth was about to occur and none wished to miss it.

When all had gathered, the phoenix made his entrance. He brought with him the wild lavender, now potted and wheeled to the edge of the pyre to be with the phoenix at his moment of glory. The phoenix raised a wing to hush the crowd and spoke.

“A phoenix lives 500 years. During his life he gathers a tremendous volume of wisdom and knowledge. At the end of the 500 years, he sets a funeral pyre, enters it and emerges a new-born bird, to start again the cycle. I have lived a long life and have learned many things. I have learned I do not like many beings or to be among others. I found a love for this wild lavender, as it does not talk back or argue with me. However, plants, like people and birds, have longevity too and soon outlive their purpose. Such is life. Now the end is upon us and entry to the pyre must occur.”

With that the apprentices lit the kindling and the fire ignited and the funeral pyre flames danced to the heavens. Fire lighted the sky and the crowds pushed back. The phoenix stepped forward and, in one mighty motion, thrust the lavender into the fire. “My time is not upon me but the lavender is done. May something better emerge from this.”

Of course nothing emerged from the fire. The phoenix turned out to be not so smart after all. The fire consumed the plant completely and the phoenix waited for naught. The lesson is, don’t assume that because something works for you, it works for everyone.