When Flowers Teach You How to Begin Again

I don’t think flowers are just decorations. They’re proof that beauty can exist without asking permission. Every week at the shop, I watch people pick colors that match how they feel that day—sometimes joy, sometimes apology, sometimes something in between that doesn’t have a name yet.

It’s strange, how much a small bunch can hold. Maybe that’s why I never rush through arranging. I let stems fall where they want to fall, I trim what feels too heavy, and I stop before it becomes perfect—because perfection kills the feeling. That’s something I’ve learned in both flowers and life. Leave room for something to breathe.

The seasons change, and so does how I design. In spring, I crave looseness and baby petals that look unsure of themselves. In summer, I love chaos—too many colors, too much warmth. Fall makes me want structure again, to anchor everything before it drifts. And winter… winter is a pause. It’s where I clean the tables, rinse the buckets, and remember that even resting can be a form of growth.

I’ve been thinking lately about how beginnings rarely look like what we expect. Sometimes they come after endings, and sometimes in the middle of something still breaking. But flowers remind me that starting again doesn’t have to be loud. You can bloom softly. You can open just a little.

If you ever find yourself needing a small reminder to keep going, come by Top Florist Woodlands. There’s something comforting about standing in front of rows of roses and peonies and realizing you don’t have to fix everything—you just have to choose one thing to care for today.

Maybe that’s the secret: start again, one stem at a time.