Today continues the weekly series, F*ing Fridays, which will coincidentally occur on Friday. I mentioned some of my favorite F words back on Day 5, including: Fearless, Fabulous, Fine, Fun, Faith, Freedom, Forgiveness, to name a Few.
Last week I dove into the word Folgers
Today’s F*ing Friday is dedicated to the word:
As in, bloom.
I once heard Tom Peters speak at a conference in which the marketing guru himself said to make anything more beautiful the secret is to add flowers.
I think he’s right.
And, while spending a week in the sun at Lake Austin Spa Resort I inhaled as many of the sweet smells wafting through the warm, dry air as possible and snapped as many photos as I could of the blooms all over the grounds.
I have now left the spa but here’s the feeling that stayed with me most — it’s not just the flowers that bloom there — I did too.
And, it wasn’t just in my body and my heart that I felt the power of flowers. It wasn’t even in my head — in fact, it overrides my head.
This sweet, sunny feeling resides in my soul.
And I open to receive the light.
In one of my many treatments this week at the spa, the beautiful woman working on smoothing out my blemishes, pores and pigment ended up smoothing out my soul. As she rubbed serum over my face she told me things about myself that she intuitively sensed.
One was that my stomach was upset from eating cheese. She directly told me I am lactose intolerant (She was right! I had just reluctantly eaten a round ball of goat cheese at dinner that was in my salad and my stomach was turning icky).
She turned my palm over and rubbed the side of it, pointing out the inflammation in my gut. “This is your stomach,” she said as she rubbed over a tender spot on my palm. “Does that hurt?”
She also told me my throat was sore (Right again. My throat had just started to get scratchy that afternoon, only slightly noticeable to me and undetectable to anyone else).
She reminded me to drink mint tea to soothe my throat.
I excitedly reported that I had just poured myself a cup of mint tea at dinner, instead of my usual green tea. She just nodded and said, “Of course you did,” your body knows what it needs.
Then, as she worked through my treatment she began asking about my mother. She wanted to know how old Mama Sling was when she died. I answered 51 or 52, I couldn’t remember as I sat there on the table.
She then stopped rubbing my face and said, “I want to tell you something but don’t want to freak you out.” I encouraged her to share, and promised I wouldn’t jet for the door and run out of the room naked without my robe.
She told me another woman approached her that very morning and said somebody was at the spa, not attached to the spa but attached to one of the guests and she was in her fifties.
I excitedly said, “Of course!” I am here with a woman in her fifties.
The esthetician looked down at me and gently said, “No, honey, this is a spirit. I think it’s your mother.”
And, in that moment, I knew she was right. It confirms what I have always known. My mother is with me in spirit, wherever I go, no matter if I can see her or not. Maybe others can see her, special others, those with gifts far beyond my sense of space and time. But in my heart and soul, I knew, she was right.
I suppose you have to lose someone to truly understand these words. Through my own course of loss, I have learned what I have always known, deep down inside — you never lose someone.
Our souls stick together like glue.
I suppose it’s no surprise this promise started with my body — diving into food and exercise first. And, then through a few magical moments this promise began to deeply touch my heart. But, now, this promise is showing me the light and starting to creep into my soul.
Scratch that — it is starting to open up my soul.
Just like a flower preparing to bloom.
And, I wonder if this is what it feels like for a tiny bud beginning it’s journey. First there must be warmth all around, then a few rays of light poke through, until finally, through some source of power other than it’s own, the bud bursts open, full of color, letting all the sun shine in.
I may not understand it all, but I know one thing:
Flowers do make everything more beautiful.
Even my soul.