This week, amid deadlines at work, the rush of getting a project finished for my boss, and the hectic pace that full time hours bring, I have been deliberate about one thing; watching the daffodils come up in our yard.
This is by no means the first year I have watched them come up, because I have always lived where there are daffodils. Illinois, West Virginia, Ohio, Tennessee… the only difference has been how soon they come up. (Never soon enough for me!) The difference this year is that I’m watching them through my camera lens, capturing each day the same little group of bulbs in the flower bed, at the same time of day. The image from today compared with that of four days ago really shows a difference, as if all at once the leaves are reaching higher toward the sky.
Almost fifteen years ago, when Mark and I were married, a wonderful group of friends helped with the reception at our wedding. A couple of the gals went out somewhere that April and found a field of daffodils, plucked several dozen of them, and put them in vases on the tables at the reception. Maybe that is part of the reason why these flowers mean so much to me. I’ll never forget that simple act, how beautiful the flowers were, how it added to the day of a new beginning for us.
If I try to look back to one, two, ten, or twenty years ago to see how I have grown, that is a different story. Have you ever thought of that? Where were you just ten years ago today?
Were you working at the same job, or were you in the same relationship?
Do you have the same hobbies you had then or have you moved on to something else?
What habits or patterns of life have you kept, and why? What was being formed in you that you recognize now?
One of the more important lessons I have learned is that each part of life has a purpose, plays a vital role in our being. And how we come to view our history (or herstory!) can make or break us. Accepting it for what it was and moving on is how I choose to view mine. For what really matters today is today, now, this very moment, and how I choose to live in it.
Just as these lovely little bulbs will bloom and then die down, life will come and go. We have our “seasons” of blooming, harvesting, wintering, and rebirth, too. I’m thankful that you come here and share this time of rebirth with me!
Look for another Daffodil Report next Friday!