Transcription complète de how do You root?

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.