Chrysanthemums

It is remarkable how the smallest things can reframe your outlook. The other night, after a long day of mental whirlwinds and worries, a lovely individual who I have long called friend (but only semi-recently could call mine), brought me a bouquet of chrysanthemums. Small purple fireworks with green rocket streaks.

Slowly — ever so slowly — the day’s frenzy and boredom and frustrations reduced to the background. Because we had wine and soup and chrysanthemums. Admiring those delicate blossoms reminded me that there was a time not that long ago when sharing these simple pleasures together was an unattainable luxury. There was a time when receiving flowers was more of a signifier of grief than joy.

I felt an impulse to call to my past self to reassure her that we navigated every obstacle to reach this moment, to receive her first bouquet of chrysanthemums. In the Victorian floral tradition, chrysanthemums symbolized friendship and happiness. They are also the official flower of Salinas, after John Steinbeck’s famous short story. As I’m writing this post, I’m realizing that he became one of my favorite authors after I read ‘The Chrysanthemums’–a poignant short story I better understand now as an adult than I did as a teenager. Steinbeck described this hearty flower as “a quick puff of colored smoke.” I still maintain that they better resemble bursts of light, holding far more energy than a smoke cloud.

I hope to carry the memory of these little blossoms as I look toward my next expected (and unexpected) journeys; a reminder to commemorate and celebrate the everyday.

These are the first sentences I have written for pleasure since the beginning of the summer. I’m realizing that is all too easy to fall into the patterns of daily life, cooking just to eat rather than savor, writing just to communicate rather than to explore new avenues of expression. I look forward to joining my avian-themed writing partner, Goose, in writing many more sporadic posts for this blog. I hope that by re-activating this challenging yet rewarding practice of writing without aim other than personal fulfillment that I not only improve my skills and reignite my passion for the craft, but keep a better eye out for moments of wonder like these mighty chrysanthemums. Readers (if they are any), I encourage you to bring flowers to a loved one today.