Blooming…

It’s so clear that you have to cherish everyone.

I think that’s what I get from these older black women,

every soul is to be cherished,

that every flower is to bloom.

~ Alice Walker ~

Something absolutely new…



The moment a child is born,
the mother is also born. 
She never existed before. 
The woman existed,
but the mother, never. 
A mother is
something absolutely new. 

Remember this…

You are not broken.

You are opening…

The second blooming…

I have enjoyed greatly the second blooming that comes

~ Agatha Christie ~

It must be magic, this fifty year old mark. With my half century old eyes, I look at these peonies and see so much more beauty in the blowsy, half-spent open bloom than in that closely held bud. In it’s tightness, the bud is closer to perfect, I suppose, and certainly brighter in color. The barely there pink of the full flower is a bit washed out, yes. It does, at first glance, pale in comparison.

Take a closer look, though. Those uneven layers of petals stack up in a way that creates a soft cushion for those buds to rest on – much as my grandmother was my “favorite pillow” when I was a little girl. They catch the raindrops in a way that allows each one to be seen – just as our older egos are happy to allow younger colleagues to shine in the spotlight. And in a bowl, they float beautifully, unbothered by the ants that crawl about, fluffing them to their full potential – our individual “ants” vary, of course, but with age, those little irritants are much more welcomed. We know they are here to help us grow.

And then, in random spots, you can still see a streak of brilliant color. The old girl still has some tricks in her! There is more to be seen in those depths, more than you can see in a quick glance.

So yes, Agatha, there is an opening up of new life, in this second blooming. And I, for one, wouldn’t trade it for the world.

only for a matter of days…

This extraordinary cluster of blooms shows up on my wisteria tree only for a matter of days.

We are all welcome here, for a time.

An embellishment of life…

Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers, our desires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its color are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers.

~ Sir Arthur Conan Doyle ~

It is May, my favorite month of the year. It’s a time of digging deep and creating for me, and you may have noticed my absence here. As the words are not flowing right now, it seems a great time to share the beauty of flowers each day – a sort of drawn out virtual May Day bouquet. A way of sending hope from me to you…

Look for all sorts of new growth soon…

Worry is..

Worry is like praying for what you don’t want…

I am not sure who said that first – I’m just grateful to have this little mantra in my toolbox.

It’s so true, isn’t it?

What would happen if we all “worried” – expended that sort of energy – about what we DO want?

What would happen if we each took a little time, here and there, to paint the world with love, with joy, with light?

We could heal the world, in a heartbeat.

We could.

Let’s start today…