A couple of weeks ago, I spent a day with the wonderful Sarah Raven at a flower growing and displaying workshop. And it was wonderful. A day of following my interests for the sake of it, of being immersed in colour and texture. Central to our wellbeing and ability stay in tune with ourselves, I believe, are nature, being outside, plants, colour, creativity. Making time and space in your world for walking, stretching, gazing at things you love that help you breathe consciously, growing seeds on a windowsill, and bringing flowers indoors can improve day-to-day life more than you might expect.
These elements, that bring us back to being in the body, are an absolute necessity. Without them, we become lost, unrooted, distracted, purposeless; with them, we can find simplicity, a quiet mind, inner certainty. Knowing, belonging.
My day was an exploration of a hobby, but more than that. The more time I spend in my garden, outdoors, looking at the details of the world around me, the more I appreciate things that grow, with simplicity, with strength, with beauty, with colour, again and again. This is where my centre is, where I feel peace. The more I can bring nature into my life, appreciate the rhythms of it, the happier I am. The more I know that my life has been spent doing what matters.
So – flowers. And the thing I love about Sarah Raven is her willingness to use colours – bright colours that clash, flowers that people assume aren’t elegant enough, leaves and vines that aren’t flowers that trail wildness into the display. There is a vibrant freedom to her flowers that is full of energy, that hits the eyes, that looks like joy itself.
But I learnt something during the day, too. There’s a method behind flower arrangements: the heart, and the horizon. I’ve been thinking about those words since, and how they are how we arrange our lives as humans, too. Heart is the strong focal point: the bold, beautiful flower you fall in love with. The horizon is the tall, loose, billowing foliage. The two are contrasting, but aligned.
It strikes me that these are perfect details to remember when we are making plans in our own lives.
Those plans should include the heart: what really matters, what speaks to you, gives your life the grounding it needs. Also, holding on to what your heart knows. Believing that you already know the answer when you can’t see it clearly. When you are overwhelmed.
But those plans should also keep one eye on the horizon: where you are aiming for. What you would like to achieve in life – and not necessarily those career-striving, financial goals we are told we should always be striving for but what we want our life to look like, where we want to spend our energies. And, within that, acknowledging the fear of the horizon – the stormclouds. The ‘how do I find a way of life that I love?, what if I fail?’ voice. Bringing that fear back into place by connecting the horizon with the heart, that knows what it needs. That knows that there is no failure, but only opportunities that glide by so that others can take their place.
There’s more to be taught by flowers than we might think. There’s more lessons in nature than we are often taught to allow. Maybe this week, you can give your mind a chance to rest there, and see what it finds.
mountain and seed 