What a Mess!

My love for Japanese flower arranging has turned me into a pack rat. I save everything. Branches, boxes, dried flowers, wire, driftwood, bamboo, plastic straws, containers of all sorts…literally everything that I have used or that I could use sometime in the future to make a creative floral design. 

Lots of problems occur for me when I want to hold on to so much stuff.  Storage and space become an issue. And I hate clutter. Disorganization brings anxiety and a type of restlessness in my spirit. How ironic that creating an arrangement can bring such peace to my soul and beauty to my living space no matter what is going on in my body or my life.

Recently a good friend came over and helped me organize all of my flower arranging things.

What a blessing! It felt SO good to clean up the mess. During the 3 to 4 hour process I was able to let go of many things that I realized that I really didn’t need nor would I use.  AND during the sorting I rediscovered some wonderful items. I was able to think of new and interesting ways of using things that I already had. You might say that I found beauty in the midst of chaos.

Reflection questions:

How do you find balance between what you need and what you want? What to keep and what to let go of?

What can you do to bring more peace and less anxiety into your environment? Into your life?

Who are the people in your life who bless you and/or help you with the messiness in your life?

Flowers for ME?

It was more than six years ago when I was admitted to the hospital with blood clots in my lungs. I was started on blood thinners and ordered to stay in bed for the first couple of days. I was unable to speak more than a few words without becoming short of breath. It's amazing how busy the mind gets when there are not words being spoken in the room. 

Up to this point in my life I had always been the caregiver. I found this role as patient to be very uncomfortable. I instructed my husband to tell our family, friends and church family that I did not want visitors. (Please, no hovering.)

My husband, John, was very worried about me but also grateful that I was in the hospital. And I was grateful that John is not the hovering type. John expresses love and gratitude by giving. He decided to express his gratitude to the hospital staff by bringing food for each shift on the floor where I was staying. In the mornings John brought bagels and croissants. In the evenings John brought pizzas. I loved it. My dear husband was taking care of "them" and therefore they were busy and NOT taking care of me. 

On day three of my hospital stay I was allowed out of bed to sit in a chair or to go to the bathroom. Also on that day I had a visitor. A friend of mine, who is a pastor, walked into my room and sat in the chair next to my bed. I said to him, "Oh you are here visiting other patients. You didn't come here just to see me." He wisely replied, "Michelle, that is not a question." I never did ask the question. My friend stayed for a little while, prayed with and for me, and departed. It was quiet again.

It wasn't too long after that when a hospital volunteer walked in my room with a bouquet of flowers ... for me. I was surprised and delighted.  I placed the flowers on a shelf in front of the window and gazed at them. A strange thing happened. A sadness welled up in me. And then anger. I didn't want to be a patient in a hospital or anywhere. I wanted to scream "please don't bring me flowers!" Tears began to flow and to drip on the bouquet. I realized that I was hovering over those flowers.

Questions for reflection and journaling:

What feelings well up in you when you think of being cared for? 

Where are you hovering? How does it feel?

Are you giving yourself enough quiet time for gazing into your feelings?

What is the question that you are not asking?

Broken Beneath the Surface

Flowers always brighten my day and lift my spirit. Well, almost always. But not on this particular day. I'd purchased flowers in order to make a flower arrangement for the upcoming Sogetsu ikebana exhibit. As a student and teacher of this Japanese art of flower arranging, I was both invited and expected to participate in the exhibition. I am usually excited to take part. However, I had just returned from seeing another "-ologist" and the doctor gave me the news that I have yet another chronic diagnosis. 

The sadness that overwhelmed me made it seem impossible to keep this exhibition commitment. I held little desire to even look at the flowers that now sat in a bucket in the laundry room. As if deep sadness wasn't enough to deal with, I began to hear the little committee in my head arguing with me about being dependable and about not feeling sorry for myself. Feelings of guilt began rising up in me...

The committee won the argument. I packed up my supplies and flowers and headed my car to the exhibit where the other Sogetsu artists had began assembling their arrangements. Once I was at the venue, I unpacked my supplies and began sorting through the flowers and palm leaves that I had brought to work with. It was not long before I discovered that one of the gerbera daisies was broken.  The stem was snapped just a couple of inches below the blossom.

I set the flower aside and continued sorting and then I began creating...slowly.

Just when I thought the arrangement was complete, I looked over at the short, stubby remains of the gerbera daisy. I sighed. It sort of reminded me of myself ~ broken just beneath the surface. Like the daisy, I was holding a bright face toward the world. None of my fellow artists would have imaged how upset the news I'd received that morning about my health was affecting me. My eyes began to fill with tears. I picked up the little broken flower and it spoke to my heart. I then placed it low in the flower arrangement. There was a special place for that flower.

For Your Reflection ~ 

Where/how do the wounded or broken parts of me fit into the world - my relationships, daily commitments, etc.?

How has it been helpful (or not) to hide the emotional effects of my diagnosis?

What opportunities does my brokenness offer me? Or others?

When I am depressed or feeling un-well, what/who do I avoid that could help lift my spirit? What is behind my resistance to those potentially life-giving supports?

Share your thoughts and wonderings with others by clicking the "comment" link below.

Welcome to Michelle Rogers

We are so excited to have Michelle Rogers as a guest blogger through the month of November.  Visit our Always We Begin Again ("AWBA") blog at Making the Heart and Soul Connection to learn more about Michelle and her desire to offer this experience to AWBA readers.  

It is our plan that Michelle will post photos and a reflection to this blog the first week of every month.    Throughout the month, we invite you to engage in dialogue with her and others by posting your comments to this site.  If you would like to receive notice when postings are made, add your email to the list by completing the box on the right side entitled, "follow by email."  If you receive the monthly AWBA newsletter, links to this blog will appear in each newsletter as well.  To register for these monthly newsletters, visit the home page of our website at http://www.myawba.org and provide us with your email address.  You may unsuscribe to these monthly newsletters at any time.

We are grateful to offer this discussion free of charge and open to anyone.  Please take advantage of this wonderful opportunity and enjoy!