Lessons From the Daisy

I have been watching this Gerbera Daisy grow for at least a couple of weeks now. I first noticed it opening up on December 26th, and today is January 16th. This probably doesn’t seem unusual, except that we are in the dead of winter. All of my Gerberas die out in the winter and most of them come back in the spring if I have some kind of cover for them, or they are covered somewhat and protected by another plant nearby. This year, I didn’t cover it at all. I just ran out of time, and then figured whatever survived this winter in the garden was icing on the cake of life!

For context, so far this particular flower has survived freezing temperatures, hail, winds above gale force, and the most ridiculous deluge of downpours for days on end. It also normally blooms a red-orange, but is showing up yellow at this time.

For context about myself, I love gardening. It is one of my very most favorite things to do. When I am in the dirt so to speak, I have some of the most profound personal discoveries and gain insight for solving all of the world’s ills. I am at home in the garden and yard, and it is a balm for my soul and mind. It turns my often-chaotic thoughts into a peace garden. It transforms my rushing river of emotions and stinky thinking into a constructive and placid pond in a meadow. I gain so much calm and peace and clarity in the fog and storms of life when I spend time in nature. So, I’ve been learning from this beauty.

This surprise Gerbera Daisy - unexpected, but welcome.
This surprise Gerbera Daisy – unexpected, but welcome.

We usually think of daisies as being delicate. But this one is showing us something different. This one is showing us that there is strength in what appears to be delicate, and apparently longevity as well! Below are 35 of the many thoughts that have come up as I have observed this flower for the last few weeks.

  1. I can weather any storm.
  2. I may have some tatters, and scars, and maybe even some broken or missing pieces, but I am still beautiful.
  3. It is somebody else’s choice whether they see me as perfect petals or tattered and torn, but means nothing about how I choose to show up.
  4. At first glance, I might appear to have it all together, to have it all perfected, but upon closer examination you will see truly that I have lived through a lot. And yet, I live.
  5. Sometimes I get stuck in conditions that are tough, but I can show up beautifully still.
  6. If a flower can change its color to survive a season that no one would expect it to survive, I also can shift how I show up to thrive where I am in the moment, the season.
  7. What is my default behavior, my unconscious automatic reaction? Do I notice the beauty or the scars first, and which do I focus on?
  8. Do I honor someone’s scars, especially if I don’t understand them or why they have them?
  9. Sometimes it is necessary to find a balance to stay true to what is good for me and still thrive where I am.
  10. Hold on! There is a new season just around the corner.
  11. Someone might pick me, but it may not be right now.
  12. If no one picks me right now, I can still bloom and bloom again.
  13. If someone does not pick me, they aren’t the one who sees my strength and beauty correctly.
  14. No two flowers are exactly the same, and the flowers don’t care.
  15. Every good bouquet or garden has other kinds of flowers and greenery to create texture, levels, and a more beautiful mix.
  16. I may not be someone’s favorite flower, and I may grow better in a different garden.
  17. There is a time to bloom, and there is a time to rest.
  18. Beauty can be fleeting, so plant good seeds.
  19. It may be surprising at how well I can do when circumstances and surroundings don’t appear optimal.
  20. Surprises and blessings aren’t always planned.
  21. Despite how, where, or what climate I was raised in, I can still thrive, be beautiful, and share joy.
  22. I may never know the depths of what came before someone’s growth and success, or the circumstances from where they are coming.
  23. How someone is dressed or appears shouldn’t determine how much respect I give them.
  24. Examine others under a microscope only if you can handle them lovingly.
  25. I am worthy regardless of where I show up, who is around, or what enyone else thinks.
  26. I won’t be everyone’s favorite.
  27. Sometimes I will need to or have to grow alone, and may even do better that way.
  28. Sometimes I might have to stand alone.
  29. If you pick off too many of my petals, you might end up with an answer you don’t like.
  30. Give me enough room to spread out.
  31. Protect me, but let me grow.
  32. I’m not done unfolding.
  33. I am a part of nature.
  34. Handle me with care — and this is as much a message for me as it is for you.
  35. I have layers, and none are the same, but they all make a whole, beautiful me.

What would you add to this list?

A closer examination reveals that it's tattered, weathered, but still thriving and beautiful.
A closer examination reveals that it’s tattered, weathered, but still thriving and beautiful.



The Sacredness in Ash

I was out trying to fix a sprinkler earlier today. (Yes, Mama, I had on my N95 mask.) I was working as fast as I could so I could get back in the house. I noticed that I had ash on my arms and could feel it getting in my eyes. My glasses lenses were scattered with it. I noticed it on everything. I noticed that I couldn’t see behind our property very far today from all the smoke. When I got in the house, I decided to take a shower to get the smoke and ash off of me, and I noticed that the top of my head had quite a bit of ash on it. Seeing that ash on my head, even more than when I was out in the yard, shoved me right into a reality I hadn’t examined thoroughly before.

All I could think about was that people’s lives were raining down and floating all around me… pasts, futures, hopes, dreams, plans, tiny pieces of homes and precious belongings, maybe even pets and other wildlife. And I couldn’t help but think, “Please, no people.” Whatever it used to be, it’s all things that can’t be put back together again. They can be replaced, some of it, but if you’ve ever lost or broke something special, often times it’s just not the same. I hear it said often in times like this, “At least they didn’t lose their lives.” In an obvious sense that is 100% true, but it’s also not true at all – when we work so hard for the things we have, the places we live, the things we cultivate and that are precious to us.

Certainly I think it’s a safe bet that the vast majority of us would not trade our lives for any of those other things, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or isn’t significant. It may even be life-changing and cause a domino effect of other hardships.

So I said a quick prayer over the ashes on my head, a prayer for what was contained in them – the things that though they showed up as ash are actually the intangibles that keep us all going. I didn’t think to mention any of this until I saw someone posting a little bit ago about how annoyed they were with all the ash on everything. I get it. It’s messy and it’s certainly not good for us to breathe in. Yet, I think it’s sacred. Granted, we’ll have to wash it off of things, and some of it will catch in the wind and be shuffled off to another destination over and over again, but I sure will see it differently forevermore when I watch it floating down, resting on things, or being rinsed away.

Front, side of my house looking into the back.

👉 Me, Myself, and I 👈

Good, bad, or indifferent, I’m the common denominator in every event and circumstance in my life. If I get to take credit for the celebration and praise-worthy instances, I must also take responsibility and credit for the lackluster and substandard occasions as well.

The way in was me, and so it is for the way out. If I want more, then I stay the course. If I want change, like everything else, that movement begins with me as well.

Simply because I’m human and share the planet, life sends me surprises. I may not be responsible for that, but I am still at the center of the space created from my own response.