Before 10 am there’s plenty of shade in the backyard and usually a nice breeze is in those shaded areas that feels almost cool to my skin. Standing in front of the Shrimp Plant, spraying it gently with water I realize it’s putting on quite the show. Admiring it’s beauty, I noticed a tiny, orange bloom hidden among the foliage. Looking more closely, that tiny flower seemed familiar and I remembered that bloom from last year!

It was planted in a large pot by the driveway until the day I went to water it and shockingly it was destroyed. Some nighttime creature had eaten every leaf from it’s stems and stripped it clean, so I trimmed it down to the dirt and forgot about it, until now. I used some of the dirt from that planter by the driveway to help fill the large planter the shrimp plant is sitting in. My best guess is some roots from the little orange flower was in the dirt and by caring for the shrimp plant that little flower returned.

My first thought was to gently separate it from the Shrimp Plant and give it a pot of it’s own, but didn’t want a repeat of what happened last year. I realized this massive plant was doing a good job keeping it safe, so I let it be. Standing in this moment reminded me of an old Joyce Meyer quote that took root in my heart and mind decades ago. “The hidden years of your life are the birthplace of greatness.”

I’ve been practicing listening in the presence of people and am learning to be mindful of what I share. An exciting idea, or an inspired thought quickly deflates after sharing it with my neighbor. They don’t see it in the same light and are quick to offer an opinion from their perspective, so my conversation skims the surface.

I only share my crazy ideas with my daughter because she’ll tell me if it’s beyond crazy, or just crazy enough to be doable. For our wildest dreams to take root, have time and space to grow, it’s best to let them stay hidden.

Feature Photo by Carlos Alberto Gómez Iñiguez on Unsplash