The Language of Flowers

One day, while walking the hallway of the hospital ward, I received an unexpected phone call from the concierge desk of my apartment building. I was informed a bouquet of flowers was waiting for me when I returned home. Pleasantly surprised, I scrolled through my recent text messages trying to decipher who may have been my secret admirer. The answer, whom I’d later discover, came as no surprise at all.

The flowers were sent by my dear friend Laura. After a particularly challenging week on a professional and personal level, Laura sent the flowers knowing they would make me smile. As I hurriedly approached the concierge desk, even from a distance I could appreciate the bouquet of pinks and purples smiling lovingly towards any passerby. Finally within my reach, I squealed in delight.

I carried my present carefully to my apartment and set it on my island.

How beautiful I thought.

Recently, I’ve been thinking of the TED talk by Brene Brown on vulnerability which can be found here. In her excellent presentation, Brown speaks on a simple but powerful concept: those who live their lives fully, “whole-heartedly” as she notes, do so because of their willingness to embrace vulnerability. These individuals have a sense of belonging, and, importantly, a sense of worthiness.

With vulnerability comes courage. Vulnerability allows for imperfection, for rejection, and through it all, for growth.

“Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity.”

– Brene Brown

In the past year I embraced a fear I have long had: the fear of working out. Unathletic as a child, with only yoga to claim as an (inconsistent) source of movement, I was eager to incorporate physical activity into my life as an adult. But, I had a million excuses: I did not know how to use the equipment at the gym, I did not want others to watch me struggle, and I was afraid of another injury which followed a burst of enthusiasm years ago. I began lessons with a personal trainer and learned how to use weights and machines effectively and safely. I began to work out consistently (save for the occasional “breaks” we all face when life gets too busy). And slowly but surely I found it easier to move from one level of exertion to the next. I even began to – dare I say it – enjoy my visits to the gym.

Did this mean I no longer feared the gym? Of course not. But I allow myself to be vulnerable, in front of others, and, more importantly, with the little voice who pipes, “maybe I could go to the gym tomorrow.”

I wonder, then, what other opportunities await me should I be vulnerable. Will I find the courage to explore new hobbies, travel to new countries, or fall in love once again? I do believe so. All that is good will follow with my most authentic self.

As the week with my new flowers wore on, it became apparent water changes were not enough to maintain their vibrance. The roses wilted sooner than the daisies. I did not mind. Not despite, but inspite of, their finite life, flowers are ever poised, ever vibrant. Their vulnerability to exist in an unknown world never falters, and so they speak their language plainly: I am here. I am beautiful.