From Beating to Burning

“Beating around the bush.”

Whatever does that mean? Well… it’s bad news for the bush, unless it longs to be the center of attention. It’s a way to shake the leaves, rattle the branches, and make some noise.

But the bush provides cover for the bush beater, who doesn’t want to step out into the open.

I’ve beaten that bush regularly and sometimes roughly. That poor thing would just sigh when I showed up, resigning itself to the fact that it was a preferred method of testing the waters before jumping in.

The bush had given up,and would just obediently rattle as loud as I could make it rattle, the leaves dropping off the bruised and battered branches in a roundabout carpet,none of them falling straight to the ground. A good beating around the bush will send the leaves reeling and spiraling on an uncharted course- nosedives are frowned upon. The proper procedure is to have each leaf give a dance show, for there is where the leaves can show off their skills, distracting and confusing the observer in a flurry of movement and stillness, all at once. As one leaf cartwheels like it’s riding the wind, the next leaf has already been deployed and careens wildly in a flurry of motion and deception. This leaf is exceptional and proves the worth of beating around the bush as a communication tool, used by so many- myself included.

That bush has felt the sting of love, hurt and hope- all in one thrashing. It has kissed the terrified but excited leaves goodbye as they flew up and away, free falling to earth in spirals and spins. It has looked away as some of the most promising leaves become airborne and just fall straight to the ground without a single flourish.

This bush has been a reliable companion for many years, a steward of all things veiled. Consistently diverting and throwing up decoys, this bush has been a familiar form in my toolbox for as long as I can remember. It fit me like a glove and it anticipated where it would be needed most.

I don’t know how it happened, but I burned it almost to the ground a few days ago. It was just another day but the bush was exhausted from the huge demands of service recently and after I had beaten it rather sharply ,it suddenly caught on fire. The flames erupted with an audible boom and were crazily licking at the surprised branches. As the bush,that I had beaten for so long, burned with vivid colors and snapping noises, I was torn between saving it for future use or letting it burn to a pile of glowing embers.

I quickly covered it with a saturated blanket of confession and true intent, and the smoke floated upwards like a premeditated smoke signal, catching the wind and being pulled off into the distance.

Beating around the bush has been a great resource for me, and those like me, since words were created. To beat around the bush successfully is a skill, a fine line between clarity and obscurity, and can be a work of art. I’m not ready to burn this bush to the ground, and I ultimately saved it by confessing my true feelings, by extending my beating heart to another. My heart felt the beat of someone near , through the act of saving a burning bush that had really taken a beating lately.

I’ve beaten around this bush for so long that I consider it family, so I’m thinking of making it a bonsai. I’m just waiting for the leaves to grow back and the charred places to grow out.