Is talking to flowers dangerous for your mental health?
Or could it be the sanity injection you need?
There’s a shop I walk past quite often that has a white picket fence with several bushes whose flowers burst through in a joyous celebration of colour.
As I approach the bushes I get a sense of joy and I can’t help but feel the happiness of the flowers and thank them for their brilliant floweryness. (I’m a copywriter so I can make up words)
I actually thank them out aloud and I don’t care if people think I’m mad, at least it’s more interesting that watching Family Feud.
Where else are you going to feel such random joy for no reason? Sally in accounts is grumpy, Sharon in sales always wants something from you and Bernie the cleaner thinks you’re a pig because you don’t clean your mug.
But flowers just seem to enjoy life and radiate happiness. They don’t get hung up on whether their petals are the right colour or if they are too fat or skinny. They don’t panic about withering away and dying. There’s a grace to how a flower lives its life that we all can take some inspiration from.
Now imagine that the flower was some kind of mystical counsellor where you could off load all your worries and concerns to. Spill your guts in a safe way. You can sit on the ground, crossed legged and start chatting away about all those things you can’t tell anyone else, all those things that weigh down your heart and tear at your soul.
The flower won’t judge you. It won’t even feel the need fix anything or even comment. It’ll just radiate joy and love back to you, no matter what you tell it. It’ll love you regardless.
Just talking to someone, anyone, anything; even a flower, about what ails your heart is enough to make you feel lighter. It’s stops the swirling thoughts going around your head and then constricting your heart. It then releases them to the universe to do with as she will.
And a flower is a good starting point.