Updated: Apr 23, 2020

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I'm an orderly person. I like to make lists. I like to have plans. I like for everything to have a place. If you are familiar with the Enneagram personality typing, I am a resounding Type One!

But as I've gotten older, I've recognized the heavy stress, anxiety, and general angst that these traits have poisoned my body with as I've methodically woven them into every nook and cranny of my day. I think I NEED order. I NEED predictability. I NEED things to go as planned if I am to survive.

But: Life.

So in an effort to grow in the area of flexibility, I've challenged myself to actually lean into a little chaos in certain arenas. It's been so good for me to become familiar with and even start enjoying the unique beauty that is found in things that are wild and free (two words that couldn't be further from my natural vocabulary).

One of those areas that I am flexing my letting-go muscles in is the realm of flowers. I am a trained florist. I was a garden club member for 10+ years who would constantly be judged on the "perfection" of my floral designs, colorways, and grown specimens. To say this does not come easy to me, embracing the je ne sais quoi of gathering a random armful of flowers and plopping them in a vase with barely a thought is an understatement. BUT, I'm changing! I'm learning. I'm embracing the chaotic beauty found in nature and color, and abstract designs. I'm realizing that an absolute riot of color and form brings me even more joy than a perfectly curated collection.

Even in its imperfection.

Perhaps because of its imperfection.

For someone like me, that is no small miracle!


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