Blooming

bloom

When I moved into my new house in LA, I wanted a yard full of poppies in springtime. A small thing, sure, but I could see it, and it was going to be glorious. Rows of sunset orange, tangerine, cream and dusty green. I bought seeds, put them in the fresh, damp ground — I expected them to grow.

As spring arrived, and the whole of California it seemed was bathed in that orange glow, my backyard filled up with green stalks. Rows and rows of green. Not a single blossom anywhere. I would walk outside, combing the —what really just looked like weeds at this point — green for the smallest sign of color.

And I was disappointed. I really wanted those flowers to bloom and they weren’t. Every time I saw a poppy on the roadside, or in my neighbor’s yard, it was a small reminder that my flowers might never bloom. It was hard to be happy for the rest of California when my yard was still poppy-free, and my expectations were totally dashed.

But, I didn’t pull up the green, even if it wasn’t what I hoped it would be. One day, maybe, there would be poppies in this garden, maybe I would get to see it, or maybe I would have moved on to some other house, some other garden, some other field of wildflowers waiting to bloom. One day, I would get my little sunset garden.

Sunday afternoon, while I was doing homework at the kitchen table with my son, my eyes traveled to the backyard, to all that wild green, and they caught on something.

Bright, vibrant, wide open, bathing in sunlight. A few perfect poppy flowers.

popp

When I look closely now, I see a multitude of blooms waiting to open up, promising me flowers for days, more than I even expected.

Expectations can create a false sense of urgency, they can push your patience into panic, your faith into fear. They can make you feel like everyone around you is getting the fields of wildflowers you hoped for, while you are getting green stalks of flowerless weeds. But patience pays off in time. Not pulling up the flowers you planted because they aren’t blooming yet, pays off, too.

Waiting for that warm Sunday, when the sun touches the garden just right, and the first little flower opens up, pays off in spades.

 

Life Grades

It’s important, in the grand scheme of life and the American-way, not to lose sight of your standards. In NYC, every restaurant is required by law to display an A through C health and sanitation grade. Here is a link explaining how it works, and why it’s awesome and should be taken seriously. In our neighborhood alone there are multiple restaurants with a B (marginally offensive) and a C (terrifying!). As a person who respects my body (though I inject it with way too much caffeine, but we all have our vices) I refuse to eat somewhere that garners such a low score. I also really, very much, hate to throw up.

There is a funny episode of How I Met Your Mother from season six where Marshall and Lily insist on eating at a restaurant with a D (this is not a possible score now, but was at one time) and they both get food poisoning. Of course, turns out, Lily is pregnant — but really, standards people!

Standards are an important aspect to every part of life, not just food, but we’ll get there. I promise. I am always shocked — not necessarily to the point where I stare through the window at the grease smeared counter with a scowl, shaking my finger reproachfully at the non-hairnet wearing cook with his finger up his nose, but almost — by the patrons of establishments shitty enough to get that kind of grade. In a city literally bursting with delectable eateries, why would you submit yourself to a place where you’ll likely get the runs? (It should be noted that these restaurants aren’t any cheaper, though sometimes they have deals on liquor.)

Standards, expectations, imagination. And here I bring in my point. Ready? Have you guessed it? We achieve what we believe ourselves to be capable of. If you decide you are only able to do one meal a day and the rest are peanut butter sandwiches or cereal that’s OK. If you think your kid incapable of sleeping through the night, they won’t. If you believe your craft worthy of publication, and you raise your expectations, you educate yourself, you work really hard, you can do it.

Often, we begin with a grand plan and somewhere in the execution we lose sight of the goal. We let our expectation for success be thwarted by the hardship of the journey. We stop breaking open our imaginations to find the best route to our goal. We give up. We lower our standards to a place that is manageable and comfortable. We eat at the restaurant with the C grade and the waitress who just sneezed in your coffee.