The Unfurling Of A Rose

The Unfurling Of A Rose 

MATTHEW RAYNOR

FEB 02, 2025

Hi, my name is Matt Raynor, and as most of you know, I’m a quadriplegic. It’s a situation that comes with some unique challenges, and because of that, I’ve had to develop some equally unique ways of dealing with them. Over the years, I’ve gotten pretty good at reframing situations—looking for the positives, finding the silver linings. It’s so easy to compile a list of everything that’s going wrong, to convince yourself that things aren’t going to work out. But the truth is, the universe is working with us—we’re the ones working against ourselves. It all comes down to perspective and belief.

I’m a Buddhist. I meditate for an hour, sometimes an hour and a half every day—because I need to. I deal with severe health issues, which often leave me unable to sleep, unable to eat, sick with nausea, bloated, exhausted. When this happens, it feels like the whole day is attacking me. That list of everything going wrong starts to compile itself, the shadows creep in, anxiety steals my breath, and the panic becomes palpable.

When I was a kid, I had severe seasonal affective disorder, and I was extremely depressed. Every winter, I longed for spring—for green things, for growing things, for blue skies, intoxicating smells, and the freedom of summer’s long days. I would spend the winter preparing, waiting, resenting the cold and the darkness. I hated the winter. I wanted nothing more than for it to be over.

One particular winter, I decided to create a garden in my parents’ yard. I wanted to clear a patch of land so that when spring came, I could plant flowers and revel in their beauty. But as I started clearing the ground, I ran into these dense, thorny briars. They tore me up, cutting my hands, scraping my skin, leaving me frustrated and exhausted. I spent months trying to rip them out, but there were just too many. Eventually, I gave up. It felt impossible. I was just a kid, and clearing land was hard work.

And then spring came.

The briars—those same plants I had spent months trying to destroy—turned green. Then buds formed. Then, out of nowhere, beautiful pink and white roses unfurled. Not just the ones that looked nice—the ones that smelled incredible, the kind that fills the air with fragrance. And that’s when I realized something: the garden I had been trying so hard to create was already there. The universe had already provided me with everything I was looking for—I just hadn’t known it yet.

I think back often to that kid toiling against the briar thorns in in a vein attempt to change something I had no power to change. And because of that, I try and revel in the moment, to see the beauty of every moment. The universe provides us with everything we need in Its infinite beauty, we just have to wait we have to be patient and we have to accept that for the spring to come. There needs to be a winter day. But there’s no reason to feel like a winter day.