All Manner of Blooming

Yesterday during my first visit to the Cleveland Botanical Gardens, I kept mentioning to my partner Nick that I like the big showy colorful blooms. The dramatic showstopper flowers – the hydrangeas robed in their royal purples and blues, the vibrant pink peonies, the complicated dahlias with all their intricate petaling. 

Nick said, “yeah but don’t they (the plants) all have a place?”

At first I was like “no, not in my garden they don’t – for instance, look at that tree. I hate its red rust color and its dour droopy leaves.” He stopped, and was like “really, you can’t see the beauty in that?” I shrugged off the comment and kept walking and talking, talking and walking. 

But, when I got home and reflected some more I started to get curious about my strong reaction to the Crimson Queen Maple and how quick I was to rip out the Queen Anne’s Lace planted at my old house. 

When I began to think of the flora as actual ‘personalities’ I began to soften and also completely over-analyze why, as a self-proclaimed super sensitive person, I was having such a hard time appreciating the more dainty blooms, those smaller in stature, and absent of bright color. Do I have a subconscious attraction to those things I often find lacking myself – those things the bigger brighter blooms seem to represent –  strength, confidence, fearlessness. Swagger for days (if not seasons).

I began to think of those amazing humans who attended our Rooted Retreat for the past two years and those who I will get to know more intimately at our third and final offering of the weekend this June. I began to think of them as blooms, and suddenly I could appreciate the plants that didn’t need to open up in splashy displays, but instead added contrast and texture to the garden. The quiet voices that nevertheless offer sage wisdom – maybe their blooming season is shorter, but their roots run deeper and so when they do speak (i.e. flower) you don’t want to miss their offering.

I began to think of the ones that don’t outwardly flower at all (gasp).

But know what they do very well?

Provide Oxygen and homes for animals and “hold the ground so that when floods come they are not washed away” (EarthPen). When I heard the Youtube narrator say, “they hold the ground” I was struck by the beauty of that turn of phrase and all it implies. They are strong, and stable, and keep entire species remaining when things more fleeting can’t hold  – they are the great ancestors that hold our lifeblood, our history, our stories. After a little more research I was reminded of one of my favorite non-blooming plants – moss (or fairy carpet as my friend Janie calls it). It grows often in damp dark places – simple green ground cover – and yet there are few things more enchanting then a moss covered tree, or walkway, or forest floor. 

Anyhow, what was supposed to be a few lines of written word, has now turned into a psychoanalysis of the personalities of plants and my own unconscious shortcomings lol. 

Should you wish to visit our ‘people garden’ at a weekend away in Yellow Springs, you can visit the rooted retreat channel on this website.

A flower doesn’t think of competing with the flower next it; it just blooms.

Zen Shin

Community > competition. Come blooms with us – in whatever manner that looks like for you. 

P.S. After reading this post on FB, Geauga Candle Company Owner Sindi Jo Paul reached out and graciously offered to donate several floral scented candles to our retreat weekend.

All candles are hand poured with an extra helping of love. Wax is domestically grown 100% food grade soy wax with no additives or fillers. Natural fragrancing free from dyes, parabens, and phthalates. Handspun wicks are made from USDA organic hemp and free of lead and zinc. Labels are printed with soy ink on 100% recycled paper with biodegradable adhesive.

Sindi Jo Paul

“A bit of fragrance clings to the hand that gives flowers [or in this case candles]” (Chinese proverb).

Thank you Sindi!

Credit: EarthPen https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YD7tyuB4N6Q