March 17, 2019
A friend of mine was having minor surgery and I wanted to show him some support and love. He is an avid gardener and I thought a small pot of bulbs with happy yellow petals might cheer him up as he recovered. I threw together a few “cositas” which means “small gift” in Mexico, including some miniature daffodils I bought at Trader Joe’s. As is often the case when I shop for gifts, I am not above buying a little something for myself as well (…you know, “One for you, one for me!”) Sure enough a second daffodil container made its way into the basket.
I have a stand that
is in my direct line of sight as I walk through my front door and that makes it
a great spot for fresh flowers. I enjoyed the pot of daffodils until it toppled
off the stand. The stems on the flowers had been slowly splaying as the week
wore on and I kept thinking, “Oh, I need to cut those dead ones back.” As I was
cleaning up the disarray, I noticed that three flowers had survived the fall
and were still perky. I cheerfully placed them in a small vase and took a
closer and more thoughtful look. Whenever I spend the time to really notice the
details of any flower, there is always so much to appreciate. Taking in their
wonder can bring a little, or sometimes big, moment of delight if I will let
it.
Daffodils are kind
of magical. The ones I bought had a starburst of lemony yellow petals at the
base with a delicate butternut colored trumpet at the center (aptly named the
corona, or crown). My daffodils were only around for me to enjoy for a few
weeks and then, of course, they all eventually wilted and died. They were small
expressions of beauty while they lasted.
It occurred to
me: what if whatever Force that created
the daffodils experiences me in the same way I appreciate the daffodils? A Bible
verse I learned as a kid comes to mind about being “…fearfully and wonderfully
made…” (Psalms 139:14). I’m a speck here on Earth for a flash. By that I mean
that if I put my life in context of how long humans have been in existence, how
vast the Universe is, and how tiny, tiny I am in comparison, I am insignificant.
I say this with objectivity, not to disparage myself. But, I am also a
wonderful creature at the same time. I am capable of speaking two languages, of
feeling and giving love, of writing and creating, of being inspired, of
digesting and using nutrients from food or healing a cut without even having to
think about it. My precious body just does so many things for me.
If I am like most of
the members of my family, I will live for about 80 to 90 years. That feels like
a long time. My life does matter to me and to those who know me. So I want to
be the best and highest version that I can be. While I don’t know if I am
regarded and delighted over, what does it hurt to be open to this being a
possibility?
I’m going to just jump
in and believe it to be true.
NN