It was the mid-summer of 2018 and my family and I had gone to a botanical garden. Sometimes I hurry too much – I either search for my true love the rose or I search for something “extraordinary”. It can be so easy to pass by something more simple that my eyes have taken for granted – like a daisy.

And suddenly, there we were. Beside the garden of roses was a garden of daisies. And I remembered just how special this is. I remembered.

As a child, I’d lay below the cherry tree and there were daisies everywhere. And strawberries. And cassis. And I’d climb the tree. And I’d roll around the grass. And then look at the sky to dream. And then dream some more. I’d imagine how my life would look like when I grow up. Sometimes I’d stand in front of the mirror and try to stretch my face wondering how I’d look when I am older. I wondered who I’d kiss for the first time and who I’d marry. How would it feel? Where would I live?

Suffice it to say – what we plan or dream is not where we end. But isn’t it just as beautiful? Because the most beautiful part of our body is where it is now. The most beautiful part of our eyes – is what we look at now. And the most beautiful part of our hands – is where we touch now.

Sometimes we can get so lost looking at the sparkly and “extraordinary” that we forget the simple which is just as extraordinary. It takes the wonder of the childlike eyes for us to remember how to live sometimes. As children we paint the world with the colours of our heart – and so we don’t need much – it is already inside of us. And everything looks amazing. And this is what makes us grateful. Because we appreciate the wonder of everything. 

remind me, daisies, that the life we end up living even if (so-called) simple is beautiful. remind me, daisies, that if i can still see you with the colours of my heart then that simple life is actually not so simple after all … that it is in fact extraordinary. and it is … all I ever needed and wanted … to continue to see you as colourful as before, dear love, never letting anything murky taint my heart. remind me, daisies – i am still me.