Flowers in the wild, they bloom so freely. They grow untended in an untamed paradise, undisturbed and unperturbed by the turbulences and distractions of modern living. They grow in breathtaking abundance, fanning out in all directions, digging their roots in deep and holding their stalks high. Flowers in the wild, they bloom with reckless and resplendent beauty, bursting with luminous light. They don’t just catch your eye, they hold and meet your mesmerized gaze. They don’t seek to make themselves smaller to fit your capacity to only hold so much beauty in the palm of your hand. They don’t seek to be unseen and they aren’t afraid of captivating your senses. Flowers in the wild, they have that spirit of joie de vivre that makes you want to spin around in circles while holding your best friend’s hands. The moment reminds you of your childhood spent lounging in the grass, summer camps and the cold splash of water on your skin on a sweltering day. Daisy chain crowns and pressed flowers from young love come and gone. In this garden, there is no plotted order as to where one must grow.
Flowers in the wild, they just are. They thrive because they are allowed to just be.
Manicured lawns and hothouse flowers are pampered with the utmost care and detail. They need ideal conditions to flourish and bloom. They need someone who will create an environment for them. They need permission to blossom and grow.
Let yourself go into the wild every now and then – free of the structure and circumstances that you think you need to be in to be happy or stable.
In an age where we can opt into a curated visual of what life is supposed to look like, deprogram yourself from the curated tiles and pre-determined tastes that tell you what you should want, feel, or have.
In a connected world, I am always trying to re-center myself to what’s real. The reality is that the world does not exist just in pixels. The world is not just contained in a hand-held device that has essentially evolved into an extended limb that many of us feel that we cannot live without. Humans aren’t screens. What makes us human is the physical reality in which we see, touch, hear and feel. This reality houses our biological and emotional responses. It’s where we wrap our arms around someone we love when they are grieving or celebrating. It’s where we take a moment to stop and smell the flowers.
Whenever I go for a walk — I’m especially fond of this in the waning hours of the evening — I love to stop and close my eyes when the unmistakable fragrance of night blooms waft through the night air. My favorite blooms are tea olive trees, wisteria and lilacs. I have absolutely no qualms about looking like a quack who pauses in the middle of the street to take a moment for repose – to breathe. How many of us walk towards our destinations and miss out on the little joys in life because we don’t put the brakes on to enjoy the scenery?
Flowers have always been a great love of mine. My Mom was an avid gardener, and she would always wake me up on the weekends at absurd hours to help her pot a plant. As an 8-year old girl, I did not enjoy digging holes in the soil to pot bushes of lavender, but nearly two decades later, those bushes are an explosion of purple, teeming with honeybees in the height of summer. There is something gratifying about seeing plants grow. My childhood bedroom overlooked a baby fig tree, and in the years that have passed, it has climbed towards the sunlight in an unruly way – its branches outstretched and heavy with ripe fruit. How did we luck out with such beauty on Earth?
I’ll be back to my old habit of writing now. This blue silk dress from Kate Spade (one of my favorite designers in college) has been with me for years now and bears so much sentimental value. It was the first purchase (the occasion was a much anticipated date) that I made on an advertising intern’s salary in New York, and it’s traveled with me to Maine, Vancouver, San Francisco and all around the world. As fast fashion permeates our consumer choices today, I’ve always tried to pick timeless pieces that I know that I’ll keep for the years to come or I choose to buy and sell in the burgeoning consignment and resell market. Good design lasts a lifetime! I’m certain that I’m the only person to don a silk dress while walking a few miles on a muddy trail in order to reach a sweep of broom brush in the woods… but, how divine it was when we arrived!