Finding My Way Back

Rituals of remembering

I don’t know about you, but I seem to have the same realizations again and again. Meaning, somewhere along the way, I forget them–––and then get to realize them all over again! At the time they feel terribly important. Even life changing, Then, laundry and dentist appointments and watching the news. I find myself back in the current of daily life, swept away from the island of awareness upon which I paused, if only for a day.

And such was the case this past week when I found myself trying to get back into my groove after Armando and I were sick for a month while also moving house (yes, we moved again because we were renting short term places and are now in a longer term place). My energy isn’t quite back to where it was. I’m very on point until about six PM when it all falls apart and I just want to watch All Creatures Great and Small in bed with Armando and our dog, Pumpkin and fall asleep in the next couple of hours.

But I’ve been finding my way back. Little by little. And one of the things that makes me feel like myself is creating some small moment of beauty. Sometimes that’s creating bouquet. Sometimes it’s making a watercolor painting. And this weekend it was visiting a plant nursery and coming away with begonias, a flower I have never cultivated. They have a kind of day-glow color that is always a bit of a shock. I forget how intense they are. And even more so because they thrive in a degree of shade, a place where their brightness stands out in contrast against the cooler shades of sun cover. They look like paintings. And after an unreasonable amount of deliberation, I chose a couple of begonias and a coleus, with its bright, striated leaves, and brought them home.

I learned flowers from my mother who always knew the names of the plants at the nursery, who brought them home and made a beautiful perimeter around the homes we lived in. I realize now what a difference it made to be surrounded by flowers: on the dining table, on the kitchen counter, in the entryway. Camelias by the carport, roses along the driveway, tulips on the patio.

And so I arranged a pot of begonias to keep on our patio. I offer it here as show and tell even though it has not yet filled in. It’s a beginner. And its beginning makes me feel new again. Such a small thing. Which now I remember is a big thing. However bad it gets out in the world, or whatever dire straits––or mere discomforts–– I find myself in, these things seem to matter. Tending a rose bush. Planting some tomatoes and watching the red fruit ripen.

Surely you, too, forget and remember what feeds you. Consider this an invitation to remember. And also to name your pleasure below!

Wishing you wellness and wonder.

Danusha