Self-care tip: buy yourself flowers
As a kid, I didn’t understand why people sent each other flowers. I guess they were pretty but I would rather have had most anything else as a gift. Like that thirty dollars you spent on a bouquet. But as a kid I also didn’t understand why people liked chocolate ice cream so I was wrong about a lot of things.
When I got divorced people started buying plane tickets and flowers. I joked that the heartbroken registry was nearly as good as the wedding. On my divorce day coworkers showed up to give me cheesecake and champagne, joining the two bouquets I already had on the counter.
I must have gotten used to having flowers around so now I buy them for myself. At the grocery store I pick up bouquets for $5.99 and feel like I have a very adult grocery cart: flowers sitting on top the bag of carrots and snap peas. I stop to pick up more pillsbury crescent rolls before I check out.
I am not a potted plant person. I cannot keep them alive. Not even a succulent. My friend bought a little cactus for me when I moved into my new apartment as a symbol of my new life. I tried not to find a metaphor in watching it die. The impermanence of some wildflowers in a vase suits me. I feel a fresh start every few weeks when I come home with a new flower assortment. Whatever was on sale.
Receiving flowers now feels to me like it’s intended: a burst of brightness and life from someone who loves me. When I gift them for myself it feels the same.
“In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends.”
Okakura Kakuzo
With Love,
Natalie