The Presence of Peonies

Y’all, my peonies are poppin’!!!

My entry into gardening several years ago was driven by my love of peonies, and my desire to grow my own. Call me basic, but I am obsessed with these voluptuous beauties. My peonies are so gorgeous right now - they are really putting on a show. I love to just stare at them and marvel. As I marvel, I often notice that feelings of anxiety and dread float in, and I worry about the fleeting nature of my treasured flowers. I feel like I need to soak up their essence, and appreciate them as fully as possible. Sometimes I actually feel a little frantic about the situation. Ironically, their presence sometimes makes me lose track of the present.

Peonies only bloom once per year and that time in the year is right now. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to enjoy blooms for about a month. Their luscious green foliage will then spend all summer gathering energy, and they will eventually go dormant and hibernate all winter until this time(ish) next year when they will “wow!” again, if all goes well. As in all of life, nothing in the future is guaranteed.

This morning, when working on the flower bed where my peonies live, I noticed my anxious thoughts. I took a deep breath and told myself to be calm, and to think of the time working in the flower bed today as play. I reminded myself that no one was forcing me to be outside in my garden, and that I had an opportunity to really enjoy my time with some of my favorite creations in nature. That mental re-frame shifted my thinking and helped me to be more present and less hurried. I was able to dote on my precious blossoms while listening to the bird chatter and the wind chimes (bonus!). I was able to accept that the peonies won’t be around for much longer, but they are here now; I have time with them today, and that time is a delight.

This process with my peonies today reminds me of the struggle we sometimes experience when we know that a loved one is dying, or might die soon, especially as a caregiver. There is often so much to do, like “make the bed” (as I did today with my peonies). It’s easy to get caught in the swirl of tasks and fear about what comes next. It’s also not unusual to experience some detachment at this time because that feels easier somehow. 

I am also reminded of Brené Brown’s teachings about the phenomenon of “dress-rehearsing tragedy” and that nothing can actually prepare us for tragedy. Our best defense for the inevitabilities of loss are to relish in joy and express gratitude. Check out more about these ideas in this article.

One of the benefits of working with an end-of-life doula is that we can support you and your loved ones to find the gift of presence during the dying journey. What if you could really dwell in the moments of joy, laughter, and love, right until the end of this life?

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