Flowers and Flowers.

What a strange start to my day yesterday. I published my blog all about the poppy and what it means to me, then as every day I pop round the blogs of the many friends whose blogs I so love reading. In the meantime Rudhi makes a comment on my blog about “Flower Power” and I thought I was the only one in this circle old enough to remember that. I then looked at Kim’s blog and there I saw a beautiful flower painting abstract in nature which always appeals to me. Then the crowning crunch Katherine has a blog about painting in the rain a little flower painting. I head off to the bath signing “Flowers in the Rain” and I am still signing it now as I sit and write this.


So we are thinking, flowers in the rain and flower power. For the younger readers, probably the majority are younger than me this was a time of love and peace and giving flowers as symbols of them. I remember walking along Princess Street in Edinburgh probably one of the most beautiful main streets in Scotland. My hair was almost at waist level, I was wearing a kaftan and bells, jeans and bare feet. It is ok I was not the only one my friends were the same. We had huge bunches of daffodils we had bought from the fruit market in the early hours of the morning and we were giving them to people as they passed along. “Peace my friend,” we said, “I hope you have a good day.”

One person made a comment, “If you are going to give out flowers you might make them decent ones.”

There is s lovely story about the young Zen monk. He and the Zen Master were in the temple one day. It was the task of the young monk to take care of the shrine. As they stood talking they saw an old lady approach the shrine and place two small plastic flowers on the shrine with great dignity and reverence. The young monk said, “as soon as she leaves I will remove those.” “Why?” asked the master. “Because they are plastic and terrible,” replied the monk, “we are trying to keep the shrine beautiful.”

“Do you think the Buddha would care if the flowers were plastic or real?” asked the master. “You do not like plastic and so you have made your mind plastic. All the Buddha would be interested about was the mind and the thoughts of the giver.”

The lady had given her token with a mind full of beautiful thoughts and kindness. The monk had thought he was thinking beautiful thoughts but instead he was caught up in his own values and ideas. He was then imposing his ideas on the old lady. Who knows where she got the plastic flowers or the story behind them, only her. Judge others as you wished to be judged.


This blog is linked to my other blog where the artwork is dicussed:-Flowers