orchid

My orchid finally bloomed again.

Let’s go back a bit. My orchid is a rescue orchid. In that someone left it behind and I decided to make it mine. So, technically I did not bring it out of a life of peril. I brought it home, repotted it, and placed it on my mantle, where it receives some sun through the window. Never having been an orchid’s caregiver, I wasn’t sure what to do. So I did what I do to my other plants. I watered it about once a week and hoped for the best. For the longest time, nothing. Well something, in that it didn’t die. But no blooms. Then, a short while ago, I noticed. Something is happening. And a few days ago, voilà!


Today, after photographing my flower, I had a couple thoughts. Whether my thoughts are accurate, well, remains to be seen. But I feel better so there’s that.

I felt like what I’m hoping for is going to happen. Which is interesting because I’m not always completely certain of what I’m hoping for. But I have formulated and considered and made an effort and that is really all anyone can do. Aside from completely controlling which is not a good idea 99.8% of the time, I’ve found. Pushing, shoving, yelling, screaming, and demanding. Are all things I’m not so great at. I’m more of a hold on loosely kind of person. Which is why I’m particularly happy about my orchid’s progress. Water it and hope for the best….and it worked. While I realize that’s not always the recipe for success, and truth be told I have thought and studied and made a great deal of effort towards my hopes being fulfilled, it can’t hurt.

Another thought? How sad it is when people don’t realize the beauty of the flower. Alright, that sounds like some sort of oddly dark symbolism, maybe? Or a trite and rather cheesy saying. Which I don’t mean it to be. At first glance, when passing through my living room, it looks like a flower. A blooming plant. An orchid if you know the names of flowers. When I really take time to look at it though, it’s intricate and one of a kind. The colors. The shapes inside. All the things I think of when I stop and study it. Yes, a Georgia O’Keeffe type moment.

And Georgia I am not. Hardly, actually. But I can recognize the flower is beautiful and in doing so, recognize that it’s alright to also acknowledge beauty in hoping. Beauty in caring. Beauty in the desires of my heart which no one else completely shares because they are mine. A reminder that my hopes are realistic. Complex. Tangled up like the roots, in other places. In other plans. Other people.

There are two more blooms on the plant, as of today. Meaning I don’t know exactly what the plant will look like tomorrow. Additional flowers? Just like me. I don’t know what is going to be. I have a pretty good idea of what tomorrow will look like. I’ve already written some things on my calendar. Yet, freely I can adjust. Make room. Repot like I did the plant. Because the pot it came in was too small.


If you don’t know who Georgia O’Keeffe was, I suggest you find out:

who was Georgia O’Keeffe?

If you don’t know what song was referenced in the above entry, you were probably born after 1980. And I’m not giving you any hints. Thanks for reading though!

If you thought this entry was a bit mediocre, it most likely was. I have struggled to come up with anything great to say, as of late, and sometimes ya just gotta go with it….

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