Flourishing in the Dirt

Yesterday Dorothy Skiles proved that you can take something beautiful, like a flower, and jam it forcefully into a pot of dirt and cover it with moss, and it can actually become more beautiful.

As a woman who has had a black thumb forever, and will most likely to the end of time, I am in awe of gardeners; people who know plants, people who understand how to make things grow. 

But watching Dorothy, I was equally surprised at how easy it didn't look. And I forgave myself for not being able to do it well.  

I couldn't identify well with the gardener, but I understood the flower. I felt perfect in my little plastic pot with holes, and I was comfortable with my roots. I was alone, but I was happy. I didn't need to share my water, or be compared with another. 

And then Someone came along and pulled me up and ripped up my secure and intertwined roots and pushed me into a bigger place, in new soil, and surrounded me with other plants. And I felt so brutalized and small. 

What I didn't understand is that I would never continue to grow or thrive or flourish in that small plastic pot. I was not being fed. I would eventually die if left there. My beauty would not be seen or appreciated there. 

Someone else knew better for me. The uprooting is hard, isn't it? But the final picture changes my entire perspective. The pain of being pushed into another place, is overshadowed by the fact that there is where I will thrive. And the dirt that once suffocated me, feeds me. And the other plants that sometimes even tower above me, only serve to offset my beauty. 

There is purpose.

Being planted means being ripped up from what we know. It's not glamorous or comfortable. It's dirty, and scary, and confusing.

Like everything in life that's worth anything. Like Motherhood.

First Day Flourishing

It was only the first meeting and it blew me away. Your smiles, the friendly chatter, meeting new moms, finding things in common, pretty colors, pretty faces.

It was just the beginning of this Flourishing gig. And you all made it. You showed up. I hope it was worth it for you; the early morning rush, the real clothes you had to put on, the getting of children in the car with bags and bottles, the forgotten cup of coffee on your counter because your brain couldn't handle even one more "I have to remember" (or was that just me...?). 

Sigh. That was a good cup of coffee too. But, you know what? I remembered my kids! So that's a win. I'm claiming that, no matter what anyone else says.

Also, that video, though. Can anyone else relate?

            

Don't hold back. Let the tears flow, mama. You're a mom, full of life and full of love. Motherhood is also full of pain, and struggle, and realities that only a fellow mom can understand. 

Maybe the hardest part of the struggle of motherhood is that we don't often stop and process anything; we are full speed ahead, taking care of these tiny people. They need us, and we would die for them. Loving another human that much takes a lot, and so we tire, and need our moments of rest.

Process here, fellow mom, in this room, with these other girls who get it. We're going to rest together, celebrate together, cry together, and flourish fiercely together.  

And it's going to be great. 

Let's Flourish!

The summer is ending, you guys.

Maybe you're sad, maybe it went too fast for you. You wanted to get in that last camping trip, that last excursion to the beach; or you want more night swims and time with your family.

Or, maybe you're excited about fall because the heat makes you hate and loath and want to bite the heads off of your favorite people. I know nothing about this.

Last night the cool air blew through our windows and it held a promise. The promise of fall, cozy sweaters, pumpkin-flavored-everything, school for some of our kiddos... And MOPS!

I'm getting excited. I'm growing into this years theme, and I'm ready to flourish. I think the thing about "flourishing" is that in order to do so, you first need the right setting; you need feeding, love, care, attention. I don't know about you, but I give those things, and very little do I get anything similar back. In fact, often I feel quite empty and far from flourishing.

But this year, in spite of empty love tanks and empty stomachs, let's meet together and make a choice: let's flourish. Let's be brave, and get ready to be fed more than just a cup of cold coffee. Let's open ourselves up to fiercely loving each other into a place where flourishing no longer seems so hard.

Let's do this thing. See you all on Tuesday.