There is just one word that comes to my mind when I think of something I love. Ever since my friend, Dorothee Lang, introduced me to the world of flowers, I have been in love, truly, madly, deeply.
It’s not just flowers. I love weeds as well. Together, they mean something precious. They remind me of the immeasurable fragility of life, of the enduring transitoriness of it all, of the sheer brilliance of each moment. There are days when I don’t think anything in life is worth it. There are times when I feel that it is a pain to get up and just carry on with life. My darkness has been my companion and often, the nagging Satan with devilish horns of death in his head. But then, I see a flower, and I crumple up, opening myself up again to Life. Opening up to the Universe that often fails me, but is always there to tell me that to be flawed is not a crime, to be lost is not a sin, but it is our inability to learn from our mistakes that we become outcasts in its benevolence.