Like most people, I’ve experienced many setbacks in my life. Like most people, I dust myself off and bounce right back. Sometimes I learn from my mistakes; sometimes I repeat them. Take it or leave it, I guess, but don’t tell me what to do, say or feel. That’s my job.

This week has brought me much closer to flowers; every day, I hold my breath when I go outside to see who is damaged, who is lost, and who, like the feisty Zinnias, pays no mind to the weather.

I am relating to these miracles of nature in new and different ways. We will survive and endure together.

I will never understand why some people never give up telling me what to do. Lorlee has been trying for years now and says she doesn’t understand me or get the point of me. There is some respect there, on both sides.

Good luck, Lorlee, we’re both getting older, and you are not making any headway.

It’s mutual, I can’t fathom why she keeps trying to tell me what to do,  but here we are, still talking with one another, getting nowhere. Like people in many families, we just can’t seem to walk away from one another, even if it does no good to try.

I walk away from people; I’ve been doing it my whole life. But I don’t seem to be doing it any longer; age can be a gift, I think, or a challenge. I’m not inclined to walk away from Lorlee, and I have no intention of letting her tell me what to write or think.

I mention this because I am learning how willful, resilient, and proud my flowers are.

You can’t tell a flower what to do; you can only help them get where they want to go. That’s precisely how I feel about people. I can’t save anybody, but I can help people protect themselves. I never tell them what to do.

I think of flowers when I think of this. I am learning from them, which surprises me.

I want to be like them in a way. Once in a while, I even am like them. All of my life, people have been trying to take my identity from me or force theirs on me,  and all of my life, I have been fighting back and protecting my heart.

I doubt I will stop now when it matters the most. I’m not as beautiful as a flower but just as willful and determined. We’re on a trip together.

What I have learned in my 75 years is never to let other people tell me what to do, say or think, no matter how they try or even how correct they might be. I’ve learned the importance of boundaries, self-awareness, and of acceptance – of myself and others. There are different ways to be beautiful.

The flowers relate to me in this way. They are much more beautiful than I have ever been or will be, but they are also tough and determined and, I am coming to see, proud.

My pretty flowers have taken a beating these past two weeks, and there is much more to come if you believe the weather, people.

I was already paying attention to climate change, and am not shocked by it, but the flowers have made it even more real to me, even closer to home. Climate change kills flowers wherever it goes, and that is everywhere. Many have died during the storms; many have bounced back, more beautiful than ever.

So many people out there have lost their gardens, and until recently, I didn’t know how painful a loss that could be. I do now; I dread a day when flowers can no longer live outdoors. It is happening all over the country.

Something else to worry about, another way love can be painful.

But my flowers have spirit, as I like to think I do. Every day is a triumph. Like me, they can take a beating. Like me, you can only tell them so much. Like me, they will always get up, dust themselves off and bounce back for as long as possible. And I won’t ever quit.

My Lisianthus flowers, among my favorites, are about to give birth to some beautiful flowers. I’m excited.

I got this butternut flower Sunday at the Farmer’s Market. It’s loaded with buds.

Of everything in my life, I love my work at understanding myself and working to be a better human.

Somehow, in ways I don’t begin to understand, the flowers and my photographs are helping me to do this. Perhaps they are drawing out the beauty and wisdom buried inside me and helping to melt the anger.

That would be wonderful.