A while back, I started buying flowers for myself. At first, it felt a little self-indulgent. Flowers, after all, are something that someone else buys for you. They’re reserved for special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries or as ways to say I love you or I’m sorry. Most certainly not purchased for oneself just because. But despite my judgment and misgivings, I did it anyway. (I’ve always had a little rebel in me anyway). They sit on my kitchen table, silently radiating their beauty. Every time I pass by them, I look, pause, and smile. They are just so beautiful. My daughter sometimes asks me while admiring a bouquet, “Which one is your favorite?” “I honestly can’t say,” I tell her, “Each one is unique and holds its individual brand of beauty.” Carnations, simple and strong. Roses, soft, and fragrant. Lily’s approaching greater and greater beauty as it unfolds into its fullness. Each flower was adding to the depth and splendor of the bouquet.
Flowers to honor oneself
Having flowers on my table has now become a sort of daily self-care and compassion practice. The flowers have done nothing to earn my admiration. They simply exist, just as they are. No maneuver or manipulation to alter their shape or appearance. No particular acts or shows of talent. No accessories or additions to make them better or different. Resting in their simple, lovely nature. Without doing or trying, they are entirely sufficient in just being. The very act of existing as it was created is enough. Every shape, every size, every variety, beautiful just in being. When I gaze upon this collection of humble, majestic loveliness, I’m reminded for a moment that I too, am majestic and beautiful just because I exist. Exactly as I’m made, without doing anything to be better or different. At that moment, I give myself love, admiration, compassion, and forgiveness. I honor myself in all my inherent splendor and beyond that, all the amazing things I do every day. I appreciate the wonder of me, the beauty of me.
This tiny act
Allowing this fraction of a moment to touch me alters my view of myself and how I proceed in the moments that follow. A shift occurs as I’m reminded to be a little gentler. To loosen some of the narrow and sometimes harsh expectations, I place upon myself. To forgive myself for projects unfinished or intentions thwarted by the occurrences of daily life. For a brief but significant instant, I’m reminded that I’m important, that the people in my life are important, and to let go of what is not really serving me. In short, they remind me to love.
This week I hope you find something beautiful to gaze upon that will remind you of your beautiful, remarkable nature. There are so many things to choose: a child, a pet, a tree, a trinket. Stop and smell the flowers. Draw them in. Let them move you, change you, remind you, connect you. Remember that you are love.
“Since love grows within you, so beauty grows. For love is the beauty of the soul.” –Saint Augustine