Four splendid lush blossoms plucked from our rose bush and placed in an ordinary drinking glass appeared for no particular reason one day. Just there, as seemingly simple as the life we share. A small gesture to some perhaps, but as I gaze upon them a mixture of emotions flood me. An amalgam so complex that I found myself halfway down the rabbit hole before I realised that my brain was at work performing its favourite past-time: esoteric analysis. I should've known, I was vacuuming, and I often find inspiration in this most unlikely of activities.
💖🐇🌹🐇🌹🐇🌹🐇🌹🐇🌹🐇💖
Men buy flowers for women for any number of reasons, but these flowers were not purchased with money. They were purchased with something of far greater value; consistent labour and steadfast
patience. Months ago we took a trip to Bunnings to purchase some flowers, soil and compost, all the gardening essentials. I've always wanted plants in my yard but found the venture far too daunting since the only thing I excel at is killing them via over- or under-watering. Classic Summer, too much or too little; balance often eludes me in far more areas of life besides horticulture. But I digress. Our plants were laid out, placed in the earth and tended to without me lifting a finger. Each and every day they were fertilised, watered and de-bugged by hand (at my frustrating insistence as pesticides may harm or otherwise starve my
Montis!). The only effort I ever expended on their care was walking amongst them and talking to them every now and again, especially the yellow roses which are my lifelong favourites. No words were ever exchanged between my partner and I, no 'thanks', just an odd sort of understanding that I wasn't the gardener in the family. He consistently maintained our modest plot knowing I held it dear, though I never say anything to that effect. Likewise, though I know there were days he rather-not, he tended it without any complaints. There are things we routinely do for each other regardless of how we may feel. Whether grumpy or joyous, small acts of commitment appreciated in the heart rather than the mind. Yes, buying flowers is easy. Sowing them for months then hand-picking a few, inspired by the incomprehensible energy flow that is love, is not.
Before I lose everyone who may be thinking 'Well isn't that nice.... I wish my partner would do something like that, or .... I wish I had a partner, or ..... [insert some other form of comparison-inspired envy], rest assured that my rabbit hole is not exclusively filled with heart-eyed white fluffy bunnies. My brain has an interesting way of seeing something beautiful and morphing it into a profoundly shadowy dreamscape. There are two sides of every rabbit hole, one ordinary and the other not-so. The latter particularly elusive because it contains darkness we'd rather not think about, but how else are we meant to determine how we truly feel? In this case, the fluffy bunnies on 'that' side of my rabbit hole looked more like gnarly mammoth-bunnies with overgrown teeth and sharp claws; not unlike the
pit of snakes I've described in previous works to convey how we might learn from our darker
thoughts and emotions. Learning to love both of these perspectives within ourselves equally, is my very definition of self-development.
Right, where was I? Oh yes, the roses!
As I contemplated all the love, appreciation and consideration that went into an otherwise mundane act of lobbing off a few rosebuds and sticking them in a cup, I found myself overcome with
gratitude (aka fluffy bunnies). In my vacuuming frenzy, however, I also sensed this gratefulness traveling with odd companions, my old familiar friends fear and anxiety (aka Freddy-Kruger and Chuckie-Doll bunnies). I noticed this internally because I heard my thoughts spiral around these three points:
- Do I actually deserve someone who loves me on a level I can't possibly comprehend? Someone who waters these roses on days when I'm nearly certain he'd rather spray me with the hose since I've been nagging him all day about something trivial? Tends them while I'm off travelling for work, having a wine with a friend or selfishly gymming for the second time that day? Fertilises them whilst I do little more than pay my half of the bill?
- How can I hope to sustain my current level of gratitude and never take him for granted?
- Where the shit do these loving sensations f*$!-off to when something doesn't go as I planned, and/or I get pissed for some reason or another?
🐇🐍👀Looking into the weird and wonderful side of the rabbit hole wherein these thoughts lay:
#1. A long-standing
self-worth dilemma that I'm 100% confident I share with every other human. Whether they care to admit it to themselves or not, is another matter completely. One of the most beneficial practice I've adopted is continually looking straight into the ugliest parts of myself and consciously
CHOOSING to love myself anyway, flaws and all; lord knows I give myself lots of opportunities! The point is this,
damn yes I deserve someone as amazing as this! Nothing good has ever come from feeling like I'm not good enough. It's only ever left me feeling indebted to someone who either never asked for my sacrifices, or who learned to start taking advantage of them. Neither of these situations enables healthy internal or external relationships.
No one is perfect, and we all deserve someone who loves us regardless of our humanity. 💘
#2. Ah, a question the likes of which holds the key to the 60-year marriage we ambitiously pursue! I called in a ringer to help me answer this question, going straight to the source by asking my husband. For the record, no, I don't consider this cheating on the 'How do you want me to show you appreciation?' quiz. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he feels it's as simple as expressing the appreciation one feels in real time; meanwhile my head was swimming with other abstruse considerations:
- A lack of appreciation is intrinsically linked to a false assumption men owe women flowers to fulfil some societal obligation. I'm aware that I may hold some deep sense of subconscious entitlement to such things as gifts as flowers since bullshit holidays like Valentine's day exist, and sending chicks flowers runs rampant in movies and strongly influence how we're
conditioned to view relationship dynamics. Put simply, women expect to get flowers and men expect to have to give them, sans appreciation; which I think is rubbish.
[Note: This is my ex-American influence and doesn't necessarily reflect the Kiwi way of life, for which I'm eternally grateful.]
- I might also take my husband for granted and forget to voice my appreciation because, over time, I forget what it was like to be alone. People form habits far faster than we break them, and when in a relationship we make our 'other' a habit with astonishing speed. Too quickly I stop thanking my husband for watering the garden and doing the yard work, and start asking him why it hasn't been done yet. What was once an appreciated yard chore becomes an expectation devoid of recognition. There's no antidote other than remaining mindful that, without my 'other,' I'd need to do that shit myself, so I damn sure better say thank you!
 |
| I would never take the beauty of Mt. Taranaki for granted, and by extension it reminds me remain grateful for my husband. |
#3. Full disclosure, it's been suggested that I have OCD which is little more than an obsession and chronic need for control. One gigantic hurdle along my transformational
adventure centres around finding ways to cope when I'm confronted with the fact that I have little-more than f*$#-all control in general, and precisely zero-control over anyone other than myself [Our control lies solely in our own mindsets and choices]. Admittedly a contributing factor to my largely-singular existence, people are the one variable that I typically put in the 'too hard' basket. Being single was much easier than dealing with the stress of constantly factoring in someone else's wants and needs. All this to say that I still struggle, and though I've traded in my single-dom
for all the right reasons,
when the plans I make change suddenly, never mind if they're plans I've made for another without notifying them (always with good intent, haha); I well, I tend to lose my shit.
Down into
the snake pit I go until I regain some semblance of composure, remember that I'm still learning how to cope with my volcanic anger, how to temper it with the proportionally diminished sensations of the love that I normally feel,
and that's okay. When I'm down in that pit, though I'm a bit ashamed to admit it, some of those snakes hiss '
I was better off alone,' and I'll be damned if I don't believe them! So yes I worry, I worry that I'll make a
lop-sided decision under the influence of a few black-hearted snakes, snakes who forget how utterly miserable I was being alone all the time. Hope lies in the fact that my awareness allows me to recognise that I'm not seeing things clearly, even if I'm too pissed to care. As I come down off the anger, I can again
hear the snakes that remind me of all the ways my life has been exponentially enriched when I said 'I Will.'
This precise situation was succinctly summarised on our honeymoon stay at Dawson Falls Mountain Lodge when, during our dinner service, the owner said that '
some nights you'll want to smother him with a pillow, but in the morning you'll be glad he's there and he's yours.' Words to live by.
Yup, four rose blossoms and a vacuum cleaner instigated all of this, which is why I affirm that self-awareness is a
double-edged sword. While I appreciate these inner insights, it would be easier to simply think '
awww, he picked me some flowers,' and
nothing else. Definitely easier, but it wouldn't enable me to continually improve myself either. By challenging what I think I know, I've also stumbled upon the only method that frees me from the emotional triggers of my past. At the end of the day, it's worth the headache, and my house is always cleaner afterwards too!
Original Publication Date 16 February 2020
