The Journey Here

2. Soul sister—hippy therapy.

I attended one of those events about a month ago as a guest. The ones where everyone is wearing hippie clothes and there are a lot of crystals, trinkets and other paraphernalia. While I would like to enjoy that kind of thing, as it feels so feminine and flowy (something I wish I were more of), it's not really how I am wired and I found being forced to sing while touching other women, having known them for less than 1 minute, a little uncomfortable. I did like the hot chocolate and meditations, though.

3. Shrink

I didn't mind this, as I got some help for my hyperactivity, but they can be light on sympathy and advice. Their pragmatic clinical demeanour probably tells you more than enough, as it’s clear they are really not interested in listening to your sob stories, or helping you with much else than prescribing the required meds. Their attitude seemed very get-over-it, get-out-of-my-office, and pay-me-now. I could have been unlucky.

4. Friends

My favourite option if you can trust them with the heavy stuff (some I can trust with my life), but I have, like many women, experienced disappointment after oversharing, out of a desire to connect, in the past. Sadly, you are not in everyone's world for the same reasons you chose to have them in yours, and people can and do change. I tend to play it a lot safer in my 40s, letting friendships evolve slowly and prove worthy of that kind of emotional intimacy before sharing too readily. It seems to be working. 

So here I am now.

And I am comfortable saying I don't really need anyone's help with anything anymore.

In fact, I discovered the benefit of my new way of life quite by accident while gardening. Gardening is a funny thing. It's part spiritual, part purposeful. But while not much is being said, much is being thought.

All the lessons of the past, life, death, pain and forgiveness, I guess, come with having our hands in our final resting place. It reminds us of the finality of our lives and time passing in a very confronting way.

While in this mode of yanking out weeds, I got thinking about how no one really gives a hoot about our problems like we hope they will. The fact we even need to pay someone to listen says it all. The harshness of this realisation can be frightening, but at the same time freeing.

So rather than trying to elicit sympathy or understanding from someone equally flawed who is struggling with their own challenges, nowadays I prefer to try my best to deal with life (mostly) on my own.

We all know how to anyway.

It's innate. It's intuitive.

We're just conned into thinking someone out there has some secret fool-proof advice, when they don't. 

Funnily enough, not oversharing with another human actually makes me feel a lot better than therapy ever could. I feel more confident and capable in my self-reliance.

It's like a little bit of my self-confidence leaks out whenever I seek something from someone who can't really give me what I need, anyhow.

So how did I get to creating flowers keep secrets, then?

I wanted to give people a way to process whatever has happened or upset them, in their lives, get it off their chest once and for all, and move on, knowing their privacy is assured. I know how easy it is to rehash the same thing year after year, about unpleasant events and chapters of our lives that have long since concluded.

I remember the first time I did the FKS private healing ritual for myself. Then, about a week later, the excitement of going outside and seeing a little sunflower sprout popping out of the dirt in the basket.

It was like a sign from the universe that everything would be ok.