Spring has sprung. Well, at the very least, it is trying here in my part of the world. Fortunately, the spring bulbs are ignoring the cold and making a show of defiance. This April’s abundance of daffodils has been a bright spot in an otherwise dark time as the world beyond my fence line continues to become more and more inhospitable. The bulbs planted all over my property have been multiplying for decades and every so often I muster enough time and energy to dig them up, divide, and replant them. This year I tackled the overcrowded row of daffodils growing along my garden fence. It has been well over a decade since I paid them any hands-on attention. Needless to say, the 20 or so bulbs I planted before I was a mom of two, had multiplied nearly tenfold.

Last year I decided, after noticing more foliage than blossoms, that the time to transplant was long overdue, but before I could dig up the bulbs, my husband had mowed them down. Lucky for me, daffodils are forgiving. So earlier this season I got to work. The task of digging up the bulbs was simple. Dividing them was a piece of cake. Planting them was a labor of love that quickly turned into an inconvenience. I recruited some help, but after planting 20 or so bulbs, Hannah quit and asked to play hide and seek. Then she saw the piles of bulbs that still needed rehoming and my dirt-covered overalls and opted to go entertain herself. I managed to replant along the garden fence, added dozens to the flower beds around the house and potting shed, donated 20 to a neighbor (she wouldn’t take more), and still had half a bucket’s worth remaining. So, the contained leftovers were left inside the mudroom for future planting. Needless to say, I got busy with other things. My negligence didn’t matter. The daffodils decided that the dirt in the bottom of the bucket along with the light that streamed through the door’s dingy window were enough to make them grow. Earlier this month, I was pleasantly surprised by a bucket of blooms.

Seeing the bright yellow flowers inside an old black bucket sparked something in me. The only words that came to mind were, “Bloom where you are planted.” I’ve heard this saying many times. I never thought twice about its origin or meaning. However, on that day, the daffodils showed me that this is a lesson we should all take to heart. For nearly two weeks now, I’ve been wandering around my property, watching the daffodils grow, wondering a lot about the significance of those five words, and learning a little bit about the idiom.

This popular saying which can be found on everyday items (such as wall plaques, pillows, candles, and t-shirts) dates back to the late 16th century when the Bishop of Geneva, Saint Francis de Sales (1567-1622) said the following:

Truly charity has no limit; for the love of God has been poured into our hearts by His Spirit dwelling in each one of us, calling us to a life of devotion and inviting us to bloom in the garden where He has planted and directing us to radiate the beauty and spread the fragrance of His Providence.

But perhaps current generations might recall it from when Paul Harvey (1918-2009), a national news commentator, wrote an article entitled “Bloom Where You’re Planted” in 1987, and then nearly a decade later the artist Mary Englebreit (born 1952) included the phrase with inspired artwork in her book “Mary Englebreit: The Art and the Artist“. Regardless of who deserves credit for this saying, every single one of us can make it our own.

Now that the history lesson is over, let’s get on to wondering. What does it mean to bloom where you are planted? Well, take my daffodils for example. Some were lovingly transplanted in areas with ideal conditions, some were left in a bucket, a handful somehow landed in the woods, and the dozens still need attention, yet all of them bloomed. The transplanted ones of course are taller with the biggest blooms. The ones in the woods are not as robust but are in full bloom. The bucket bulbs grew and stretched to the little bit of light that came through the window. The foliage is a lighter green but the blooms are no less impressive. The overcrowded ones have the smallest blooms and a lot of shorter foliage. Regardless, of their growing conditions, each bulb pushed through the cold earth, reached for the sun, and grew to the best of its ability. I must admit, these flowers remind me of people. The only difference is that the daffodils don’t give up. Too many people sadly do.

I read several articles about blooming where you are planted but one clearly outlined just how to do it. For us to thrive in our current situation, regardless of who we are or what it is, we need to develop the right mentality, seek out new opportunities, and be grateful for what we already have. After all, if we learned anything over the last two years, it’s that change is inevitable and we can adapt.

Maybe you’re like the transplanted daffodils. You have the perfect situation and room to reach your fullest potential. If that is the case, I hope you recognize all the hard work, dedication, and even sacrifice that got you to this point because someone (if not you) had to make it possible. When we take our good fortune for granted, we lose our bloom.

Perhaps you relate to the wood-dwelling daffodils. They have a good foundation but maybe not the ideal amount of sunshine. For example - you have a job that you are good at but you have a boss who casts a shadow over your day. It’s easy to complain and play the victim. Eventually, you’ll just stop blooming. Or you can think about the coworkers and customers that brighten your day and you in return make their days better. It may not be the ideal employment situation, but you can make the best of it until your situation changes.

During the 2020-21 school year I was feeling much like an overcrowded daffodil. Every day it was three of us in this small house all trying to do what we had to do without getting in each other’s way. Add a dog, 5 cats, 3 parrots, and a ferret to the mix and you get moments of complete overwhelm. The animals didn’t care that the kids were on Google meets. They wanted to eat, play, and make lots of noise. The children didn’t care that I had work to do outside of the four walls. They wanted food, tech support, and emotional support. It’s easy to see why this introverted mama was struggling to bloom, but I realized that the situation was temporary albeit longer than I’d hoped and I had the important job of helping my kids blossom during a difficult time. So I donned my noise-canceling headphones, listened to music and podcasts, and decided to be grateful that we were all healthy and doing our best.

Lastly, we have the bucket of daffodils. It is safe to say that their conditions were most inadequate. They were left in a dark, cramped space and yet some of them couldn’t resist the urge to grow. We can all learn from this example by setting goals that feel out of reach. This makes me think about my Dad after a bout of pneumonia left him hospitalized and in rehab for a month. It was early on in his cancer treatment and he had caught the flu which led to pneumonia that resulted in intubation. Once he was healthy enough to be released from the hospital, he was too weak to go home. Wheelchair-bound and frail, Dad entered rehabilitation at a local nursing home. He hated it there. So many of his fellow residents had given up and accepted being dependent on the staff. Dad refused. He made it his mission to get away from all the “old” people and get back to his home. Within weeks he went from bedridden to walking and then climbing stairs. After a week of staying with me, he was ready to go back to his house and second-floor bedroom. Now that is blooming!

Thank you for wondering along with me. I hope you are setting some new goals for yourself during this season of renewal so that you may bloom even bigger and brighter. Connect with me on Facebook and Instagram or leave a comment here to share your thoughts about blooming where you are planted.