Me: “Hey, August, love you. Glad you are always a slow month.”
August: “Hahahahahahaha.”
August was anything but slow.
So, I am taking time to smell the flowers.
Last week alone? Ten days straight on the road. San Antonio. LA. NYC. Keynotes, media hits, and yes—shout-out to the unsung heroes of every damn event: the A/V guys. I got home for one night, hugged my pillow like it owed me money, then turned around and did six more days.
Today? I’m sitting in my backyard like it’s the goddamn Garden of Eden. (before I leave again for six days, natch.)
But holy guacamole, my hydrangeas. Full bloom. Like Mother Nature threw me a “welcome home” party and went all out with the confetti.
It stopped me in my tracks.
Because they weren’t the same as last year. Not even close.
Last summer they were blue. Now? Some are pink. Some purple. One corner has this whole white thing going on like it missed the group text.
Are you in bloom?
I really don’t know that much about hydrangeas, to be fair.
But what I do know is this: hydrangeas change color depending on the nutrients in the soil. More alkaline gets you pinker flowers. More acidity turns them blue. And so forth.
And this got me wondering: What about us? Do we turn happier or sadder based on the people around us? Can we grow faster and farther if those around us fill our souls? Would we bloom more fully if we were planted in places that saw our potential and dreamed alongside us?
And, anyway, what if my pink hydrangea or my blue hydrangea or my purple hydrangea were actually crushing it in exactly the soil they were in? Who is to say that one is better or worse than the other, right?
In Wonderhell, I talk a lot about the effect that those around us have on our potential, and how when we are in the wrong places, we think it’s us that’s the problem when really it’s most likely them. In one particular chapter on Impostor Syndrome, I mention a quote that is often attributed falsely to Sigmund Freud, and probably spoken instead by an exasperated and poorly planted hydrangea of a person: “Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes.”
Because here is what I know to be true this week: We bloom differently depending on where—and with whom—we’re planted.
So, my question to you is this:
- Who’s your nutrient-rich soil? Who sees your potential and dreams alongside you?
- And who, honestly, might be depleting your joy, your energy, your sense of self?
Don’t settle for soil that stunts you.
Hit reply. I want to know: Who lifts you up? Who’s gotta go?
And, if you want to read a free chapter of Wonderhell on Impostor Syndrome, click here.
