Prickly Pear Cactus – Live and Learn

by Michele Oksen

Cactus Corral

Travel along our SLO coast and you might notice patches of prickly pear cactus along some of the roadsides and hillsides. Not only does prickly pear cactus, Opuntia ficus-indica, produce sweet fruit—also called figs or tunas—it provides a vegetable crop called nopales as well. Perhaps harder to harvest than most produce, this particular variety of prickly pear can be a tasty treat or painful lesson.

If you're inclined to taste test prickly pear for the first time, you might want to know that the tunas have inconspicuous clusters of hair-like and barbed spines. These spines easily dislodge and become distractingly uncomfortable when embedded in gloves, fingers, or lips. Nopales, the vegetable part of the plant, are the stem segments that look like tennis racket sized paddles. These have spines that are needle like and big enough to sew saddle leather. They may not have an eye for thread but they can penetrate hide of any thickness.

No doubt about it, prickly pear cactus has a way of pointing out the importance of being mindful. It instructs us to pay attention. Large and small spines are obvious to the observant, painful to the oblivious. To be near it or to harvest it with considerate care—versus thoughtless haste—will surely create less suffering to endure.

A prickly pear cactus teaches us a lesson in prudence—when reaching for the "fruits of life" beware of perils and challenges. When we're aware and careful in our environment we are more likely to see the options and possibilities for pleasure in addition to the potential for danger and pain.

Somewhat like living in a cactus corral, in life we are surrounded by the likelihood of encounters with pricks. It is advantageous to be aware of their presence in order to completely avoid them. However, when we are uninformed, off balance, ungrounded, or distracted, sometimes we trip and fall or back right into them. That's when they stick it to us.

If after being stuck we realize the risks, in the long run our contact with them may actually be beneficial. Teachers are important. They promote learning. If we become more aware of something's or someone's potential to make us ill at ease or downright injured, we have assimilated the teachings and can then apply them appropriately in all areas of our lives. When we're watchful and steady on our feet we might even be capable of enjoying something sweet without getting a scratch on us. Everything we experience presents opportunity for education.

Still, no matter how consciously we try to live our lives, we may on occasion reach out and accidently slip up or bump into things that hurt. We can't always protect ourselves when we stumble. What we can do is choose to make the best of our lives in any situation. We can learn something new, something that helps us to advance. After all, not all knowledge is gained through hardbacks. A lot is earned by hard knocks.

Much like we might do if we were to be stabbed by prickly pear cactus, we might suddenly wake up and be considerate to those who have thorns. Guidance comes in all sorts of disguises. Education and knowledge are a lifelong process. When we recognize every situation as a classroom, we can access valuable information and begin to better understand ourselves and the world—even while we tend to and heal our wounds. Even while we're saying, "I don't want to have that happen again."

If the purpose of our lives is to evolve and if we are to make choices that contribute to our evolution, we might not want to waste our valuable time and throw energy and effort after foolishness. I mean really, who likes to make the same mistakes again and again? That said, we may need to have an awakening to keep from enrolling in the same lessons multiple times.

Those who are aware and awake know there is no education in the second prick from a prickly pear.

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All Photos this month by Michele Oksen
Photos by Marcia Rhoades.
Banner image by Fugle