#106, Buy a Fuchsia
I strolled into the nursery casually. I admired the ivy geraniums and a few angel wing begonias, and then, in the distance, I spotted this Bella Rosella fuchsia. I literally wanted to run to it. I stretched up and tried to remove it from the arbor and I couldn’t manage it. The blooms were unbelievable… the size of my fist. I’ve never seen anything like it.
It was early morning and a woman started moving towards me. Her teenage son moved behind her sheepishly. I saw her eyeing my fuchsia. I smiled and said,
“Have you ever wanted to yell ‘Dibs!’ ?”
“No”, she said sternly, “You must realize that there are enough material possessions for all of us.”
I looked at her son. His gaze fixed on his shoes. She harrumphed and moved on, well away from my fuchsia.
I was glad.
Someone came along and saved me from scaling nearby tables. The fuchsia was mine.
I could not be happier driving down the highway with my purchase chilling in the passenger seat. We were alive and free and enjoying springtime.
But I couldn’t help but think about what the lady had said.
I am my mother’s daughter, which is to say that I look for the meaning behind things. I was brought up to believe that there are no coincidences and that we should be open to the lessons that the universe has for us.
I began to think about whether I am enamored with material possessions.
I thought no, I like pretty things, there is a difference. I also thought, fuchsias are alive. I wanted to give it a good home. Is a puppy a material thing in her view?
Hmmm…what does this mean?
I called my mother in Mexico and she began telling me about her succulent garden. We can have whole conversations about donkey tails and jade plants and often do. I told her about Bella Rosella, and she made all the right ooooo and ahhhh noises. Then I told her what the woman had said.
“Should I try that on?” I asked. “Do you think there is anything to that?”
She said, “The lesson there is that sometimes people are humorless.”
Yes, I like that. That makes sense to me.
If my heart leaps at the sight of something beautiful and I have the money to buy it, I should not let someone else’s humorlessness diminish it.
We have to safeguard our own joy. In our hearts we have blooms that twirl like little pink and purple ballerinas and we must let them dance.
There will always be people who don’t hear the music. There will always be people that will want to stop us from hearing it too.
It is our duty to keep humming through their deafness, to keep tapping our feet through their refusal to hear.
Now when I see my beautiful fuchsia in the patio, I will remember the lesson, and I will continue to shake my petals even if it’s to a beat that I alone can hear.
277 days to go!