The Sunflower.....one of my blogs from Facebook pretty much tells my life philosophy and how I have become the woman I am today.
The Sunflower
Recently I read this quote for women "You can be anything, but you don't have to be everything. " Somehow most of the women I know missed this message. My friends and I not only feel like we have to do everything, but we also feel like we have to be perfect at everything we do. To add more pressure, we feel like complete failures if we ever make mistakes.
When you're 35 (36 now and yes still single) and single living in San Diego with this idea you have to conquer the world and you have to do it perfectly, you have to make sure you do the little things to take care of yourself. I have to admit, I haven't always been good at this, but lately I have been making sure I do the little things to take care of myself. Always having fresh flowers around my house is one of my treats. I absolutely love sunflowers, actually any wild flowers. Every Saturday morning I go to the local farmer's market to buy fresh ones. I put some on my kitchen table, my patio, and my dresser in my bedroom. It's so refreshing when I wake up to them; seeing them always makes me smile.
I know, I know, you're probably thinking this girl really is nuts. Why sunflowers? Sure they're pretty, but roses and orchids are much, much more sexy and alluring. I don't disagree, other flowers are pretty too, but their beauty is somewhat of a façade when you compare it to the natural beauty of sunflowers. There's something about sunflowers and other wild flowers I am drawn to. Maybe it's what they represent to me. In my view of the world they symbolize independence, inner strength, and a strong will. All of these characteristics add to their natural beauty………No I am not drinking, this will all make sense after I tell you the story about my first sunflower.
Here's how the story goes. Be patient, I'm a global thinker so I have to describe some of the background details in order to paint the whole picture.
I was raised in the back woods of Missouri. Translation? This means I was raised in a small town near the Lake of the Ozarks and Jefferson City. It was your typical small Mid Western farming town. Only 203 people lived in my small community. Most of our houses looked like they were from a Jeff Foxworthy "you know you're a redneck when…." Yes, we had old cars and other appliances in our backyards, some of the yards were landscaped, but most of them were natural. There were more churches in my small town than stores, and there was the infamous haunted house near the cemetery. I think all of our parents started that legend so we'd stay out of the old abandoned house.
I think of my childhood as a cross between "Little House on the Prairie" and the "Boxcar Children." My family didn't have a lot of money. My father worked in construction and my mom was a secretary. Sociologists would have classified us as lower class or working poor.
We didn't have a lot of money, but all of our basic necessities were met. I always had clothes on my back, shoes on my feet, and food in my stomach. Granted sometimes clothes were hand me downs and dinner consisted of rabbit, squirrel, deer (we weren't savvy enough to call it venison), or anything else my dad brought home from a hunt, but we had something to be thankful for.
I was raised in a two story house on approximately two acres of land. We had a few neighbors, our houses were nestled in between "the woods" (about 40 acres of land some old guy owned and never did anything with) and "the field." When I was growing up I didn't think my house was anything spectacular. Some of the walls weren't finished off, we had two party phone lines in the early years, we drank water from the well, we burned our trash in the back yard, and we didn't have air conditioning or central heat. There was a short period of time when my dad was remodeling our bathroom when we didn't even have a working toilet. I have tried to blocked most of those memories from my mind…..but I still recall how awful it was!
I have to say I made the most of my situation living in the back woods of Missouri with very little money. I used my imagination and my creativity. My friends and I made Barbie houses out of cardboard boxes; we had a fort in "the woods" and a tree house in "the field." We swam in creeks and lakes and we ate mulberries and cherries off of the tree. I could shoot a BB gun, but I wasn't allowed to use the real guns so I stuck to hunting frogs with my cousins. During the winter months I'd pretend the little patch of ice on the corner was a skating rink. During the summer I turned an old piece of plastic into a makeshift "slip and slide" and I once I even tried turning an old refrigerator that was sitting in our front yard into a swimming pool. I have to say I was not very successful.
I didn't have a lot when I was a child, but I learned to appreciate what I did have. This is where my first sunflower comes into the story.
I vividly remember one summer when I was 7 or 8 the sunflower just started to grow in a small patch of land on the side of my house. Unlike roses and orchids my sunflower didn't need coddling or nurturing. I was amazed because we didn't plant it, we didn't water it, or give it any special food, but it managed to flourish and blossom on its own. I loved that sunflower; I was in awe with its beauty. I admired its inner strength, it's will to thrive and survive on its own. I watched that sunflower grow all summer. I never picked it. I loved looking at it, plus I was hoping it'd produce sunflower seeds I could eat.
Sadly I was never able to see if the sunflower produced seeds. One morning I woke up to the familiar sound of a brush hog. For those of you city folks, a brush hog is a heavily built rotary mower. They're used frequently in the Mid West to clear big patches of land. Unfortunately, my sunflower just happened to be growing on the patch of land my dad hired someone to brush hog. By the time I got outside my sunflower was pulverized! I was devastated; I cried at the sight of the newly cleared area that was once the home of my beautiful sunflower.
The following summer I watched anxiously for another sunflower to grow, but it never did. I never forgot it though. Of course, I didn't realize the symbolism or my fascination with sunflowers and wild flowers until I was much older. Which segues me into the final lesson I learned from my first sunflower.
My mom always says I was born grown up. She's right. Even though I have memories of playing like all of the other children, I learned to take care of myself at a very early age. I didn't really have a choice. My parents worked long hours. Sure we had babysitters when I was really young, but I mostly remember being a latchkey kid left in the hands of my older brother and sister's care. It's scary when I think about it now; I started babysitting the neighbor's kids when I was only 8.
I learned a lot of life's lessons on my own. Unfortunately, my mom didn't really know how to deal with children. I don't blame her; she never really learned how to be a mom because her mother died when she was 6 years old. She was making the best out of the situation and she tried her hardest to give us a good life and provide us with opportunities to be successful. My dad worked hard too, plus he was battling his own demons.
Now reflecting back, I appreciate my childhood. I'm where I am today because like the sunflower I had to develop the internal will and strength to survive despite what was thrown my way. I'm a fighter, I'm a survivor and I don't need a lot to make me happy. I learned appreciate the simple things in life.
This leaves me with the final lesson I learned from the sunflower: it's a rough world out there. No matter how strong and determined you are you can't survive in this world alone. Those of you who know me also know I am not always strong. I have also been pulverized by the brush hogs of life. I've had my spirit broken and been ready to throw in the towel and give up on life and all of my dreams. Fortunately, I've had great friends and family there to protect me and help me get back up when I've been completely mowed down. I thrive because of my inner strength, persistance, and determination. I survive this world because of all of the people who love me and help me get back up on my feet during the rough times.
Recently I read this quote for women "You can be anything, but you don't have to be everything. " Somehow most of the women I know missed this message. My friends and I not only feel like we have to do everything, but we also feel like we have to be perfect at everything we do. To add more pressure, we feel like complete failures if we ever make mistakes.
When you're 35 (36 now and yes still single) and single living in San Diego with this idea you have to conquer the world and you have to do it perfectly, you have to make sure you do the little things to take care of yourself. I have to admit, I haven't always been good at this, but lately I have been making sure I do the little things to take care of myself. Always having fresh flowers around my house is one of my treats. I absolutely love sunflowers, actually any wild flowers. Every Saturday morning I go to the local farmer's market to buy fresh ones. I put some on my kitchen table, my patio, and my dresser in my bedroom. It's so refreshing when I wake up to them; seeing them always makes me smile.
I know, I know, you're probably thinking this girl really is nuts. Why sunflowers? Sure they're pretty, but roses and orchids are much, much more sexy and alluring. I don't disagree, other flowers are pretty too, but their beauty is somewhat of a façade when you compare it to the natural beauty of sunflowers. There's something about sunflowers and other wild flowers I am drawn to. Maybe it's what they represent to me. In my view of the world they symbolize independence, inner strength, and a strong will. All of these characteristics add to their natural beauty………No I am not drinking, this will all make sense after I tell you the story about my first sunflower.
Here's how the story goes. Be patient, I'm a global thinker so I have to describe some of the background details in order to paint the whole picture.
I was raised in the back woods of Missouri. Translation? This means I was raised in a small town near the Lake of the Ozarks and Jefferson City. It was your typical small Mid Western farming town. Only 203 people lived in my small community. Most of our houses looked like they were from a Jeff Foxworthy "you know you're a redneck when…." Yes, we had old cars and other appliances in our backyards, some of the yards were landscaped, but most of them were natural. There were more churches in my small town than stores, and there was the infamous haunted house near the cemetery. I think all of our parents started that legend so we'd stay out of the old abandoned house.
I think of my childhood as a cross between "Little House on the Prairie" and the "Boxcar Children." My family didn't have a lot of money. My father worked in construction and my mom was a secretary. Sociologists would have classified us as lower class or working poor.
We didn't have a lot of money, but all of our basic necessities were met. I always had clothes on my back, shoes on my feet, and food in my stomach. Granted sometimes clothes were hand me downs and dinner consisted of rabbit, squirrel, deer (we weren't savvy enough to call it venison), or anything else my dad brought home from a hunt, but we had something to be thankful for.
I was raised in a two story house on approximately two acres of land. We had a few neighbors, our houses were nestled in between "the woods" (about 40 acres of land some old guy owned and never did anything with) and "the field." When I was growing up I didn't think my house was anything spectacular. Some of the walls weren't finished off, we had two party phone lines in the early years, we drank water from the well, we burned our trash in the back yard, and we didn't have air conditioning or central heat. There was a short period of time when my dad was remodeling our bathroom when we didn't even have a working toilet. I have tried to blocked most of those memories from my mind…..but I still recall how awful it was!
I have to say I made the most of my situation living in the back woods of Missouri with very little money. I used my imagination and my creativity. My friends and I made Barbie houses out of cardboard boxes; we had a fort in "the woods" and a tree house in "the field." We swam in creeks and lakes and we ate mulberries and cherries off of the tree. I could shoot a BB gun, but I wasn't allowed to use the real guns so I stuck to hunting frogs with my cousins. During the winter months I'd pretend the little patch of ice on the corner was a skating rink. During the summer I turned an old piece of plastic into a makeshift "slip and slide" and I once I even tried turning an old refrigerator that was sitting in our front yard into a swimming pool. I have to say I was not very successful.
I didn't have a lot when I was a child, but I learned to appreciate what I did have. This is where my first sunflower comes into the story.
I vividly remember one summer when I was 7 or 8 the sunflower just started to grow in a small patch of land on the side of my house. Unlike roses and orchids my sunflower didn't need coddling or nurturing. I was amazed because we didn't plant it, we didn't water it, or give it any special food, but it managed to flourish and blossom on its own. I loved that sunflower; I was in awe with its beauty. I admired its inner strength, it's will to thrive and survive on its own. I watched that sunflower grow all summer. I never picked it. I loved looking at it, plus I was hoping it'd produce sunflower seeds I could eat.
Sadly I was never able to see if the sunflower produced seeds. One morning I woke up to the familiar sound of a brush hog. For those of you city folks, a brush hog is a heavily built rotary mower. They're used frequently in the Mid West to clear big patches of land. Unfortunately, my sunflower just happened to be growing on the patch of land my dad hired someone to brush hog. By the time I got outside my sunflower was pulverized! I was devastated; I cried at the sight of the newly cleared area that was once the home of my beautiful sunflower.
The following summer I watched anxiously for another sunflower to grow, but it never did. I never forgot it though. Of course, I didn't realize the symbolism or my fascination with sunflowers and wild flowers until I was much older. Which segues me into the final lesson I learned from my first sunflower.
My mom always says I was born grown up. She's right. Even though I have memories of playing like all of the other children, I learned to take care of myself at a very early age. I didn't really have a choice. My parents worked long hours. Sure we had babysitters when I was really young, but I mostly remember being a latchkey kid left in the hands of my older brother and sister's care. It's scary when I think about it now; I started babysitting the neighbor's kids when I was only 8.
I learned a lot of life's lessons on my own. Unfortunately, my mom didn't really know how to deal with children. I don't blame her; she never really learned how to be a mom because her mother died when she was 6 years old. She was making the best out of the situation and she tried her hardest to give us a good life and provide us with opportunities to be successful. My dad worked hard too, plus he was battling his own demons.
Now reflecting back, I appreciate my childhood. I'm where I am today because like the sunflower I had to develop the internal will and strength to survive despite what was thrown my way. I'm a fighter, I'm a survivor and I don't need a lot to make me happy. I learned appreciate the simple things in life.
This leaves me with the final lesson I learned from the sunflower: it's a rough world out there. No matter how strong and determined you are you can't survive in this world alone. Those of you who know me also know I am not always strong. I have also been pulverized by the brush hogs of life. I've had my spirit broken and been ready to throw in the towel and give up on life and all of my dreams. Fortunately, I've had great friends and family there to protect me and help me get back up when I've been completely mowed down. I thrive because of my inner strength, persistance, and determination. I survive this world because of all of the people who love me and help me get back up on my feet during the rough times.
