Well that was unexpected

Has this ever happened to you?

For the past eight years, I’ve been dying to experience something that would set my artist’s soul soaring — Azalea Park in full, glorious bloom.

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Azalea Park is a 16-acre public space in Summerville, SC that features bronze sculptures, ponds, loads of trees, and . . . azaleas.  Lots and lots of azaleas.

For eight years I’ve heard how beautiful the azaleas are. There’s even one called Pride of Summerville and I was super keen to see that one.  I imagined myself walking through the garden, surrounded by gorgeous azaleas, my gossamer gown gently billowing in the breeze.  Yeah, okay, I don’t have a gossamer gown, but you get the idea. 😂

For a week I had seen the azaleas in my neighborhood go from tiny buds to full-on fabulosity.  Stunning shades of magenta, pale pink, lavender, and the snowiest white.  When they were just about at their peak I thought, “I’ve gotta get over to Azalea Park — TODAY!”  And then something came up.  Or it rained.  Or my old enemy — procrastination — came to call.

One night before bed I promised myself that no matter what, I was going.  I was NOT going to miss that show yet again.  Nope, not this time!  I set alarms and reminders on my phone (AuDHD is no joke when it comes to my getting anywhere on time).  I was R E A D Y.  Like, ready ready for real.

In the morning I checked the weather, put on my favorite Chuck Taylors, PI Yoga pants, and “Y’all Means ALL” hoodie, and headed out.

As I began to drive, I saw that all the azalea blooms were gone. Just gone.  Nothing left but petals on the ground.  I kept driving, in complete denial.  But my stomach had fallen and I knew deep down that I had missed it.  I had failed.  Again.

Being autistic + ADHD I’ve experienced that feeling of irredeemable failure more times than I care to remember.  While it’s painful in any circumstance, it feels even worse when it’s something I really, really REALLY want.  And when I have an expectation and that blows up — oh boy.  That’s a fast track to a meltdown for sure.  

I kept driving.  Parked my car in the loveliest parking lot you ever did see — it’s in the woods and is positively serene.  I got out and all I could see was green.

Luscious, gorgeous, divine green.  

It was heavenly.  

For an hour I walked through the park and marveled at the new, lacy leaves on so many trees.  Reveled in the varieties of bark.  Delighted by a chorus of birds — so many birds!  Crouched down to take close-ups of buttercups and dandelions, blue toadflax and pink wood sorrel.  Stopped to enjoy the soft, fuzzy new azalea leaves.  Laughed at the turtles crawling all over each other to find a prime spot to bask in the sunshine as their shells clacked together.  

On my way back to the car, I took a different path and was stopped in my tracks, gobsmacked.  There, around a bend, was a huge camellia with beautiful blooms still hanging on.  Oh, they were beyond lovely.  I’ve always loved camellias with their velvety petals and vivid, orangey-yellow stamens.  These were some of the prettiest I’ve ever seen.

I drove home elated and so darn proud of myself for sticking with my plan, even when it felt like it had blown to bits.  I’m grateful I gave myself time outside, time to notice the little things and the big things around me.  Time with myself to reconnect with what truly matters in my life.

Connecting with myself on a deeper level is vital to my mental and spiritual health.  Even though it’s a daily practice, I’m always surprised when a new opportunity comes along and brings such joy with it.

I’d love to hear from you.  What’s your favorite way to reconnect with yourself? Please let me know.  I’m sure it could help me, too.

So much love,

💕