The air is cool in the morning and I lay there for a long moment, enjoying the warmth of my blanket. I slowly release myself from my tent and am welcomed by the fresh crisp mountain air. We spent the night in a further part of the indigenous reservation to build benches for their church. It’s a simple structure, with a leveled dirt floor and stable wooden poles. There’s a plain tin roof to shade against the sun and shield against the rain.
It’s 6:30am as I sit on a small rock and look across from me at the mountains covered in rich foliage. The sky is a grey blue, with the glow of purple touching the edge of the peaks. There is a layer of fog that lingers at the mountain tops. At the bottom are farm fields, the rows add texture to the scene. I hear the sound of a rushing stream nearby. A rooster crows far off in the distance.
The view is breathtaking and life-giving.
I look down and my eyes light up. By my foot is one of my favorite plants.
The Mimosa Pudica, known by more common names as the sensitive plant, the shy plant, shameplant, and touch-me-not. The name alludes to it’s shrinking response to contact. When you touch it’s leaves, the plant slowly folds up.
I love the plant for this natural response. I find it beautiful to witness the leaves gently fold inward. It’s not known exactly why it has evolved this trait, but many scientists believe the plant uses its ability to fold as a defense mechanism.
This plant reminds me of certain people. You get too close, and they close up. Maybe they are just shy, maybe they’ve held on to a lot of shame that keeps their guard up.
What stuns me is how this movement of folding inwards is energetically costly for the plant and interferes with the process of photosynthesis. It’s defenses are actually not good for the plant’s well being.
But that’s how it usually is. People close themselves up, and it costs them more than what they think they are protecting. They lose out on deeper rooted relationships. They miss out on the wonderful feeling of trusting someone. But they don’t know how else to respond. It’s a natural reaction. They think they are protecting themselves, but it’s doing further harm. Their form of refuge is a prison.
Some people find it too hard to pursue someone who is resigned to closing themselves off. It’s too hard to climb the walls they’ve built up around their heart. And so they walk away. It’s sad, but I also think it’s okay. Let them walk away because people deserve more than someone who thinks they are too hard to love. They deserve commitment and patience and understanding.
I showed some friends my discovery. A local girl from the tribe came along. We tried to ask her the name of the plant in Spanish. She didn’t know. She simply said, “It’s not an important plant.” I get it. It doesn’t seem to have much to offer. Why take the time to get to know it’s name. It’s considered invasive and declared a weed in some regions. Who would care for a plant like that.
Who would care for a person like that. Except Jesus. And so will I.
I never want to look at someone like they’re not important. Because Jesus wouldn’t look at anyone like that.
I also don’t want to be invasive and climb their walls. I don’t want to be intrusive and break their walls down. I want to be consistent. I want to wait patiently until they feel safe enough to open the door. Because those are the type of people that helped me open myself up.
After a few minutes, the Mimosa Pudica will slowly, but surely, open it’s tiny leaves up again to the sun and to life. It’s a beautiful experience. It just takes time.
We are currently serving the indigenous people of Panama in the outskirts of the San Felix District. The reservation is located in the mountains, where a person can walk three days before finding the closest church. We’re helping with construction of some church buildings in the surrounding areas including sanding and painting. We’ve had the joy of playing with the indigenous children through outdoor games, arts and crafts, and the simple braiding of hair.
We also have the privilege of WR Exposure volunteers with us. They get to spend a month on the race as part of our teams and live life with us. They do what we do, go where we go, live like we live. It gives them a taste of the race and hopefully clarity if the World Race is for them.
