WEBVTT
00:00:14.880 --> 00:00:17.679
Hi, and welcome back to The Right Voice.
00:00:17.920 --> 00:00:21.679
I'm your host Jessica, and I'm so glad you're here.
00:00:22.320 --> 00:00:30.000
Before we turn another page and we gather another flower, let's discover another little piece of ourselves.
00:00:30.320 --> 00:00:33.119
Take a deep breath, go ahead.
00:00:33.439 --> 00:00:41.039
The emails can wait, the dishes can wait, the laundry, the errands, the notifications, they'll all be there in 45 minutes.
00:00:41.280 --> 00:00:45.520
But just for a little while, come on over to someplace softer.
00:00:47.039 --> 00:01:13.120
Imagine a little library tucked inside of an old greenhouse, shelves stretching towards the ceiling, books worn soft from years of being loved, fresh flowers gathered in simple glass jars, and the scent of rosemary drifting through the room, sunlight filtering through old windows, leaving little patches of warmth on weathered wooden floors.
00:01:13.599 --> 00:01:15.200
It's peaceful here.
00:01:16.079 --> 00:01:24.480
This is a place where we remember that beauty still exists, and life outside these walls have the capacity of becoming kinder.
00:01:26.799 --> 00:01:37.280
Reading the library of flowers has me thinking a lot about them, seemingly perfect on the outside when actually quite opposite.
00:01:38.159 --> 00:01:40.640
Flowers navigate the seasons of life.
00:01:40.799 --> 00:01:46.239
They bloom, they fade, they rest, then somehow they begin again.
00:01:46.799 --> 00:01:50.000
And I've wondered if that's why we're so drawn to them.
00:01:50.400 --> 00:01:54.079
They remind us that growing isn't something we do once.
00:01:54.719 --> 00:01:58.319
It's something we spend our whole lives learning how to do.
00:01:59.359 --> 00:02:09.520
If we build our capacity to adapt, we evolve, we become kinder, braver, softer, wiser.
00:02:10.800 --> 00:02:17.680
We add something new to our lives, and we create space for the new additions by letting some things go.
00:02:19.199 --> 00:02:25.759
One of the ideas that inspired today's conversation is how memories can shape the way that we see ourselves.
00:02:26.319 --> 00:02:30.159
Have you ever noticed how certain moments seem to stay with us?
00:02:30.639 --> 00:02:33.919
And I'm not talking about the big milestone moments.
00:02:34.159 --> 00:03:02.639
I'm talking about the small tiny steps it took to achieve the big makeup of a milestone, the smell of vanilla that instantly reminds you of cookies baking, the sound of an old song playing in the grocery store, a handwritten recipe tucked inside of a cookbook, a library card with your name written in careful handwriting, an old photograph discovered between the pages of a novel.
00:03:03.360 --> 00:03:04.879
It's remarkable.
00:03:05.840 --> 00:03:10.159
One small thing activates another season of your life.
00:03:10.639 --> 00:03:18.960
The memory has a curious way of folding time, and it reminds us that we never really stop caring the people in places that help shape us.
00:03:19.759 --> 00:03:24.960
So the question stands How are they shaping us today?
00:03:26.960 --> 00:03:39.280
I once met an elderly woman who volunteered at a botanical garden, and she couldn't have been much taller than the sunflowers that she cared for, yet somehow she seemed to fill every path with warmth.
00:03:40.319 --> 00:03:46.800
One morning I watched her kneel beside a flower bed that looked, to my untrained eye, completely empty.
00:03:47.680 --> 00:03:53.439
She smiled as she loosened the soil with her hands and really scrubbed the dirt with her fingers.
00:03:54.479 --> 00:03:58.319
Curious, I asked, what are you planting?
00:03:59.120 --> 00:04:02.319
And she laughed and she said, Oh nothing.
00:04:03.280 --> 00:04:05.520
And I looked around so confused.
00:04:06.879 --> 00:04:09.439
But you're working so carefully.
00:04:09.919 --> 00:04:13.520
She brushed a little dirt from her hands and this is what she said.
00:04:14.400 --> 00:04:16.480
I'm not planting today.
00:04:16.800 --> 00:04:18.319
I'm remembering.
00:04:19.600 --> 00:04:25.680
Seeing the question on my face, she continued Last autumn I planted bulbs here.
00:04:26.240 --> 00:04:33.680
They're still beneath the soil, and most people walk by and think nothing is happening, but I know what's underneath.
00:04:34.319 --> 00:04:41.120
Then she looked up at me with the kindest, most genuine smile, and I've never forgotten those words.
00:04:41.439 --> 00:04:49.680
Because how often do we look at ourselves or someone else and assume that because we can't see growth there isn't any?
00:04:51.040 --> 00:04:55.920
How often do we mistake silent seasons for empty ones?
00:04:56.879 --> 00:05:03.120
How often do we judge a life by its blossoms while forgetting that roots have their own special work?
00:05:04.160 --> 00:05:09.199
I've learned that as a collective whole, we're impatient with ourselves.
00:05:09.519 --> 00:05:15.839
We expect healing to hurry up, we wait for confidence to ride in like shiny armor.
00:05:16.319 --> 00:05:21.279
We want to understand everything before we've even had time to ask good questions.
00:05:22.319 --> 00:05:24.079
Nature doesn't hurry.
00:05:24.800 --> 00:05:27.279
The ocean doesn't rush the tide.
00:05:27.920 --> 00:05:35.519
Trees don't skip spring because they're eager for summer, and flowers never apologize for taking their time.
00:05:36.480 --> 00:05:40.399
Growth is always supposed to be slow enough for us to notice it.
00:05:42.399 --> 00:05:46.720
When was the last time you gave yourself permission to become someone new?
00:05:47.759 --> 00:05:53.600
Life has a continuous way of shaping us, and there are times we truly believe that we're finished.
00:05:54.079 --> 00:05:56.879
That who we've been is who we'll always be.
00:05:57.920 --> 00:05:59.680
I've always been anxious.
00:05:59.920 --> 00:06:01.600
I've never been creative.
00:06:01.920 --> 00:06:03.680
I'm just not brave.
00:06:03.920 --> 00:06:06.240
I'm too old to begin again.
00:06:07.360 --> 00:06:16.560
Those sentences sound so final as though they've been carved in stone, but what if they're only penciled into the margin?
00:06:17.199 --> 00:06:20.800
What if they're observations, not conclusions?
00:06:21.839 --> 00:06:26.399
What if your story still has entire chapters waiting to be written?
00:06:27.439 --> 00:06:32.720
I think one of the most hopeful things about being human is that we're wonderfully unfinished.
00:06:33.360 --> 00:06:38.319
There's still room to surprise ourselves, still room to heal.
00:06:39.040 --> 00:06:50.079
Still room to laugh more easily, still room to discover gifts we didn't know we possessed, still room to become someone who sleeps peacefully after years of restless nights.
00:06:50.480 --> 00:06:54.319
Still room to learn that tenderness is stronger than fear.
00:06:55.040 --> 00:06:57.759
Still room to find joy in everyday mornings.
00:06:59.040 --> 00:07:04.560
And I find that comforting change remains possible.
00:07:06.160 --> 00:07:12.319
There's an old saying that I've always enjoyed Bloom where you're planted.
00:07:13.040 --> 00:07:17.360
Although it's great advice, I began wondering if it's incomplete.
00:07:18.319 --> 00:07:24.399
Before we bloom, we have to root, and rooting isn't a gentle journey.
00:07:24.720 --> 00:07:31.120
No one applauds roots, no one hangs pictures of roots on their walls, roots grow in hidden places.
00:07:31.360 --> 00:07:39.040
They stretch through darkness, they search patiently for water, just steady, faithful growth.
00:07:39.600 --> 00:07:41.519
Life unfolds that way.
00:07:42.399 --> 00:07:48.240
The conversations that change us most often happen in the rooms that don't require much talking.
00:07:48.800 --> 00:07:53.759
The faith that carries us through difficult seasons is built one day at a time.
00:07:54.560 --> 00:07:57.680
Healing doesn't usually arrive like fireworks.
00:07:58.319 --> 00:08:08.000
More often it arrives like dawn, so gradually that we don't notice the darkness lifting until suddenly we realize we can see again.
00:08:09.839 --> 00:08:13.519
Maybe that's why I wanted us to spend this time together today.
00:08:14.160 --> 00:08:18.800
Just become more comfortable with questions that we don't necessarily have the answers to.
00:08:19.120 --> 00:08:23.600
Questions like what's been slowly growing inside of me over time?
00:08:23.920 --> 00:08:26.480
Which memories still nourish me?
00:08:26.800 --> 00:08:28.959
Which stories have I outgrown?
00:08:29.199 --> 00:08:32.399
What would it look like to become kinder with myself?
00:08:33.679 --> 00:08:36.720
I don't think those questions demand immediate answers.
00:08:36.879 --> 00:08:41.759
I think they're meant to be held like a flower tucked into the pages of a favorite book.
00:08:42.080 --> 00:08:49.120
Press gently between yesterday and tomorrow, waiting to teach us something when we're ready.
00:08:51.279 --> 00:08:58.159
Let's keep walking, because every beautiful library has another room waiting just beyond the next doorway.
00:08:59.120 --> 00:09:03.039
And I think this next room may be one of my favorites.
00:09:04.159 --> 00:09:11.039
But before we close our little library today, I'd love to remind you about something new that we're doing this series.
00:09:12.080 --> 00:09:16.399
Over the next few weeks, we're going to create our own library of flowers.
00:09:16.720 --> 00:09:22.080
And each week we'll gather one flower that reminds us of the lesson we've been carrying together.
00:09:22.639 --> 00:09:26.000
You don't need a perfect garden or even fresh flowers.
00:09:26.960 --> 00:09:29.600
Just press a bloom inside of a journal.
00:09:29.919 --> 00:09:35.279
Tuck away a sprig from the grocery store, sketch in the margin of your notebook.
00:09:35.600 --> 00:09:40.320
Even a photograph you take while you're out for a walk, however you choose to collect it.
00:09:41.120 --> 00:09:46.559
Let it become a reminder that growth is happening, even when you can't always see it.
00:09:48.080 --> 00:09:50.320
This week's flower is rosemary.
00:09:51.360 --> 00:09:59.360
Rosemary has long been associated with remembrance, but today I'd like for us to think about remembrance a little differently.
00:10:00.080 --> 00:10:03.039
Remember the moments that have shaped you with kindness.
00:10:03.679 --> 00:10:06.240
Remember the people who believed in you.
00:10:06.960 --> 00:10:16.879
Remember how far you've already come, and remember that healing often happens so slowly that we don't notice it until one day we realize we're breathing easier.
00:10:17.519 --> 00:10:22.000
And if there are memories that still ache, hold them gently.
00:10:22.559 --> 00:10:25.120
They don't have to disappear overnight.
00:10:25.519 --> 00:10:28.879
They just need a little bit more compassion than criticism.
00:10:30.159 --> 00:10:44.240
So this week, find that sprig of rosemary and keep it somewhere you'll notice, inside your journal, between the pages of your book, or like me on your kitchen windowsill and press inside the pages of a novel I'm reading.
00:10:44.559 --> 00:10:49.279
And every time you see it, ask yourself one simple question.
00:10:50.480 --> 00:10:54.320
What foundational quality has life been growing in me?
00:10:55.120 --> 00:10:58.720
And with that, who am I becoming?
00:10:59.919 --> 00:11:06.080
And by the end of this series, I hope that you'll have more than a collection of dried flowers.
00:11:06.480 --> 00:11:12.480
I hope that you'll have a collection of moments that remind you you're still growing.
00:11:13.279 --> 00:11:15.360
I'll meet you here next week.
00:11:15.679 --> 00:11:16.639
Take care.
00:00:14.880 --> 00:00:17.679
Hi, and welcome back to The Right Voice.
00:00:17.920 --> 00:00:21.679
I'm your host Jessica, and I'm so glad you're here.
00:00:22.320 --> 00:00:30.000
Before we turn another page and we gather another flower, let's discover another little piece of ourselves.
00:00:30.320 --> 00:00:33.119
Take a deep breath, go ahead.
00:00:33.439 --> 00:00:41.039
The emails can wait, the dishes can wait, the laundry, the errands, the notifications, they'll all be there in 45 minutes.
00:00:41.280 --> 00:00:45.520
But just for a little while, come on over to someplace softer.
00:00:47.039 --> 00:01:13.120
Imagine a little library tucked inside of an old greenhouse, shelves stretching towards the ceiling, books worn soft from years of being loved, fresh flowers gathered in simple glass jars, and the scent of rosemary drifting through the room, sunlight filtering through old windows, leaving little patches of warmth on weathered wooden floors.
00:01:13.599 --> 00:01:15.200
It's peaceful here.
00:01:16.079 --> 00:01:24.480
This is a place where we remember that beauty still exists, and life outside these walls have the capacity of becoming kinder.
00:01:26.799 --> 00:01:37.280
Reading the library of flowers has me thinking a lot about them, seemingly perfect on the outside when actually quite opposite.
00:01:38.159 --> 00:01:40.640
Flowers navigate the seasons of life.
00:01:40.799 --> 00:01:46.239
They bloom, they fade, they rest, then somehow they begin again.
00:01:46.799 --> 00:01:50.000
And I've wondered if that's why we're so drawn to them.
00:01:50.400 --> 00:01:54.079
They remind us that growing isn't something we do once.
00:01:54.719 --> 00:01:58.319
It's something we spend our whole lives learning how to do.
00:01:59.359 --> 00:02:09.520
If we build our capacity to adapt, we evolve, we become kinder, braver, softer, wiser.
00:02:10.800 --> 00:02:17.680
We add something new to our lives, and we create space for the new additions by letting some things go.
00:02:19.199 --> 00:02:25.759
One of the ideas that inspired today's conversation is how memories can shape the way that we see ourselves.
00:02:26.319 --> 00:02:30.159
Have you ever noticed how certain moments seem to stay with us?
00:02:30.639 --> 00:02:33.919
And I'm not talking about the big milestone moments.
00:02:34.159 --> 00:03:02.639
I'm talking about the small tiny steps it took to achieve the big makeup of a milestone, the smell of vanilla that instantly reminds you of cookies baking, the sound of an old song playing in the grocery store, a handwritten recipe tucked inside of a cookbook, a library card with your name written in careful handwriting, an old photograph discovered between the pages of a novel.
00:03:03.360 --> 00:03:04.879
It's remarkable.
00:03:05.840 --> 00:03:10.159
One small thing activates another season of your life.
00:03:10.639 --> 00:03:18.960
The memory has a curious way of folding time, and it reminds us that we never really stop caring the people in places that help shape us.
00:03:19.759 --> 00:03:24.960
So the question stands How are they shaping us today?
00:03:26.960 --> 00:03:39.280
I once met an elderly woman who volunteered at a botanical garden, and she couldn't have been much taller than the sunflowers that she cared for, yet somehow she seemed to fill every path with warmth.
00:03:40.319 --> 00:03:46.800
One morning I watched her kneel beside a flower bed that looked, to my untrained eye, completely empty.
00:03:47.680 --> 00:03:53.439
She smiled as she loosened the soil with her hands and really scrubbed the dirt with her fingers.
00:03:54.479 --> 00:03:58.319
Curious, I asked, what are you planting?
00:03:59.120 --> 00:04:02.319
And she laughed and she said, Oh nothing.
00:04:03.280 --> 00:04:05.520
And I looked around so confused.
00:04:06.879 --> 00:04:09.439
But you're working so carefully.
00:04:09.919 --> 00:04:13.520
She brushed a little dirt from her hands and this is what she said.
00:04:14.400 --> 00:04:16.480
I'm not planting today.
00:04:16.800 --> 00:04:18.319
I'm remembering.
00:04:19.600 --> 00:04:25.680
Seeing the question on my face, she continued Last autumn I planted bulbs here.
00:04:26.240 --> 00:04:33.680
They're still beneath the soil, and most people walk by and think nothing is happening, but I know what's underneath.
00:04:34.319 --> 00:04:41.120
Then she looked up at me with the kindest, most genuine smile, and I've never forgotten those words.
00:04:41.439 --> 00:04:49.680
Because how often do we look at ourselves or someone else and assume that because we can't see growth there isn't any?
00:04:51.040 --> 00:04:55.920
How often do we mistake silent seasons for empty ones?
00:04:56.879 --> 00:05:03.120
How often do we judge a life by its blossoms while forgetting that roots have their own special work?
00:05:04.160 --> 00:05:09.199
I've learned that as a collective whole, we're impatient with ourselves.
00:05:09.519 --> 00:05:15.839
We expect healing to hurry up, we wait for confidence to ride in like shiny armor.
00:05:16.319 --> 00:05:21.279
We want to understand everything before we've even had time to ask good questions.
00:05:22.319 --> 00:05:24.079
Nature doesn't hurry.
00:05:24.800 --> 00:05:27.279
The ocean doesn't rush the tide.
00:05:27.920 --> 00:05:35.519
Trees don't skip spring because they're eager for summer, and flowers never apologize for taking their time.
00:05:36.480 --> 00:05:40.399
Growth is always supposed to be slow enough for us to notice it.
00:05:42.399 --> 00:05:46.720
When was the last time you gave yourself permission to become someone new?
00:05:47.759 --> 00:05:53.600
Life has a continuous way of shaping us, and there are times we truly believe that we're finished.
00:05:54.079 --> 00:05:56.879
That who we've been is who we'll always be.
00:05:57.920 --> 00:05:59.680
I've always been anxious.
00:05:59.920 --> 00:06:01.600
I've never been creative.
00:06:01.920 --> 00:06:03.680
I'm just not brave.
00:06:03.920 --> 00:06:06.240
I'm too old to begin again.
00:06:07.360 --> 00:06:16.560
Those sentences sound so final as though they've been carved in stone, but what if they're only penciled into the margin?
00:06:17.199 --> 00:06:20.800
What if they're observations, not conclusions?
00:06:21.839 --> 00:06:26.399
What if your story still has entire chapters waiting to be written?
00:06:27.439 --> 00:06:32.720
I think one of the most hopeful things about being human is that we're wonderfully unfinished.
00:06:33.360 --> 00:06:38.319
There's still room to surprise ourselves, still room to heal.
00:06:39.040 --> 00:06:50.079
Still room to laugh more easily, still room to discover gifts we didn't know we possessed, still room to become someone who sleeps peacefully after years of restless nights.
00:06:50.480 --> 00:06:54.319
Still room to learn that tenderness is stronger than fear.
00:06:55.040 --> 00:06:57.759
Still room to find joy in everyday mornings.
00:06:59.040 --> 00:07:04.560
And I find that comforting change remains possible.
00:07:06.160 --> 00:07:12.319
There's an old saying that I've always enjoyed Bloom where you're planted.
00:07:13.040 --> 00:07:17.360
Although it's great advice, I began wondering if it's incomplete.
00:07:18.319 --> 00:07:24.399
Before we bloom, we have to root, and rooting isn't a gentle journey.
00:07:24.720 --> 00:07:31.120
No one applauds roots, no one hangs pictures of roots on their walls, roots grow in hidden places.
00:07:31.360 --> 00:07:39.040
They stretch through darkness, they search patiently for water, just steady, faithful growth.
00:07:39.600 --> 00:07:41.519
Life unfolds that way.
00:07:42.399 --> 00:07:48.240
The conversations that change us most often happen in the rooms that don't require much talking.
00:07:48.800 --> 00:07:53.759
The faith that carries us through difficult seasons is built one day at a time.
00:07:54.560 --> 00:07:57.680
Healing doesn't usually arrive like fireworks.
00:07:58.319 --> 00:08:08.000
More often it arrives like dawn, so gradually that we don't notice the darkness lifting until suddenly we realize we can see again.
00:08:09.839 --> 00:08:13.519
Maybe that's why I wanted us to spend this time together today.
00:08:14.160 --> 00:08:18.800
Just become more comfortable with questions that we don't necessarily have the answers to.
00:08:19.120 --> 00:08:23.600
Questions like what's been slowly growing inside of me over time?
00:08:23.920 --> 00:08:26.480
Which memories still nourish me?
00:08:26.800 --> 00:08:28.959
Which stories have I outgrown?
00:08:29.199 --> 00:08:32.399
What would it look like to become kinder with myself?
00:08:33.679 --> 00:08:36.720
I don't think those questions demand immediate answers.
00:08:36.879 --> 00:08:41.759
I think they're meant to be held like a flower tucked into the pages of a favorite book.
00:08:42.080 --> 00:08:49.120
Press gently between yesterday and tomorrow, waiting to teach us something when we're ready.
00:08:51.279 --> 00:08:58.159
Let's keep walking, because every beautiful library has another room waiting just beyond the next doorway.
00:08:59.120 --> 00:09:03.039
And I think this next room may be one of my favorites.
00:09:04.159 --> 00:09:11.039
But before we close our little library today, I'd love to remind you about something new that we're doing this series.
00:09:12.080 --> 00:09:16.399
Over the next few weeks, we're going to create our own library of flowers.
00:09:16.720 --> 00:09:22.080
And each week we'll gather one flower that reminds us of the lesson we've been carrying together.
00:09:22.639 --> 00:09:26.000
You don't need a perfect garden or even fresh flowers.
00:09:26.960 --> 00:09:29.600
Just press a bloom inside of a journal.
00:09:29.919 --> 00:09:35.279
Tuck away a sprig from the grocery store, sketch in the margin of your notebook.
00:09:35.600 --> 00:09:40.320
Even a photograph you take while you're out for a walk, however you choose to collect it.
00:09:41.120 --> 00:09:46.559
Let it become a reminder that growth is happening, even when you can't always see it.
00:09:48.080 --> 00:09:50.320
This week's flower is rosemary.
00:09:51.360 --> 00:09:59.360
Rosemary has long been associated with remembrance, but today I'd like for us to think about remembrance a little differently.
00:10:00.080 --> 00:10:03.039
Remember the moments that have shaped you with kindness.
00:10:03.679 --> 00:10:06.240
Remember the people who believed in you.
00:10:06.960 --> 00:10:16.879
Remember how far you've already come, and remember that healing often happens so slowly that we don't notice it until one day we realize we're breathing easier.
00:10:17.519 --> 00:10:22.000
And if there are memories that still ache, hold them gently.
00:10:22.559 --> 00:10:25.120
They don't have to disappear overnight.
00:10:25.519 --> 00:10:28.879
They just need a little bit more compassion than criticism.
00:10:30.159 --> 00:10:44.240
So this week, find that sprig of rosemary and keep it somewhere you'll notice, inside your journal, between the pages of your book, or like me on your kitchen windowsill and press inside the pages of a novel I'm reading.
00:10:44.559 --> 00:10:49.279
And every time you see it, ask yourself one simple question.
00:10:50.480 --> 00:10:54.320
What foundational quality has life been growing in me?
00:10:55.120 --> 00:10:58.720
And with that, who am I becoming?
00:10:59.919 --> 00:11:06.080
And by the end of this series, I hope that you'll have more than a collection of dried flowers.
00:11:06.480 --> 00:11:12.480
I hope that you'll have a collection of moments that remind you you're still growing.
00:11:13.279 --> 00:11:15.360
I'll meet you here next week.
00:11:15.679 --> 00:11:16.639
Take care.
