I’m going to say something that might surprise you. And maybe you can relate.
I had no history with flowers.
I didn’t grow up picking sweet peas with my grandmother and eating lunch together, with their sweet-smelling blooms between us in a little vase.
I wish so badly I had that history. But I just… don’t.
And when I think about my story, it’s clear I don’t have a long-standing history with anything at all.
All my life I’ve been a nomad, searching for connection and a place to settle, craving stability and the kind of growth that only comes with a well-established root system.
I never had that. And it always felt like something was missing.
Do you feel that? Do you know what I’m talking about?
My family moved a lot when I was a kid. And when I grew up I married someone in the military and we continued to move every three years. I was constantly uprooted and honestly was fine with it. It was just how my life was.
I was a perennial peony being dug up and transplanted every three years. Peonies don’t bloom until their second year. And even then, you shouldn’t harvest their blooms until their third year.
I was a peony just waiting to burst into bloom but constantly being transplanted to new soil and starting the process all over again.
Then, my husband got out of the military and we moved back to our home state. We bought the home we live in now and I was able to grow without fear of being uprooted.
And like a peony, in my third year I bloomed. I found that connection I so badly needed. I put my hands into the soil and the Earth held them in hers. She let me know that this is where my story begins.
She told me I belong where I stand.
I found myself. I found my Home.
I found that connection and sense of Place that had eluded me for so long. I found it in my garden. I found it in the flowers and bees and hummingbirds. I found it the earthworms and nematodes and beetles.
I found myself in the flowers, with the sun on my back, and sweat on my brow. I opened my petals and let the sun kiss my face. My feet grew into the soil and my legs became woody stems, and I opened to the sky.
My garden gave me this. My garden gave me connection and belonging.
My garden gave me a Home.
I express myself through my garden, and my garden expresses through me.
Having a garden is so much more than growing flowers or vegetables. Having a garden is growing yourself and your sense of Place.
Having a garden is pouring your labor and love into the Earth, and seeing the Earth return it tenfold.
And having a garden of flowers is to have your heartbeat radiated in soft petals.
Your garden will amplify and magnify everything you give it. Your garden will give you joy and excitement and a place to breathe. Your garden will be a reprieve from the too-busy and too-bustling world.
If you felt yourself identifying with any part of my story, recognize that your roots have been shallow and you’re craving a deeper connection and story…
I want to show you how to start your first chapter.
I want to mentor you through this stage of growth. To show you how to make your soil welcoming and how to nurture the smallest seedlings of your very own sense of Place. Your unique and personal Home.
Because it is such a beautiful experience I cannot keep it to myself. I want to share the joy I’m feeling every single day, right in my own backyard.
I want that for you.
The question is... Are you ready to plant yourself and bloom?
Sessions start this Spring, and you can join hands with me and your very own bit of Earth by registering here.
If you’re curious but not quite ready to jump in, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org with any questions you may have. I’m happy to help you discover whether a flower garden is right for you.
Your Flower Farmer, Heather