Flourishing - A Mid-Year Reflection
At the beginning of this year, I chose the word flourish as my word of the year. I wanted to encourage myself to grow in new ways - to expand my knowledge, to step outside of my comfort zone, to try new things. I wanted to do more than just live, I wanted to truly flourish.
Now, here we are at the start of June - almost halfway through the year - and I find myself asking, “How have I been flourishing?”
As I sat with this question, I realized it’s not something that can be answered in a single sentence. Flourishing shows up in quiet moments and subtle shifts. It’s not always loud or picture-perfect. And it definitely doesn’t look the same every day.
Sometimes it looks like simply getting out of bed when I would rather hit the snooze button. Sometimes it’s saying no to someone or something so I can protect my peace. Other times, it’s remembering to breathe, to offer myself grace, or to let go of something I was never meant to carry.
Recently, I stood in front of a blooming peony bush and noticed something: every flower on that bush was in a different stage of blossoming. Some petals were wide open, others were still curled up tightly in their buds. Yet all were part of the same plant - rooted in the same soil, soaking in the same light, growing at their own pace.
That image stayed with me.
Because that is flourishing.
Flourishing doesn’t mean reaching a finish line or hitting a milestone that others can see. It means being fully present in your own season - growing in your own time. It’s quiet persistence. It’s honoring the process, even when it’s slow.
Nature never compares. A peony doesn’t rush to bloom because the one beside it has already opened. A tree doesn’t feel behind because the others are taller. Nature simply grows and evolves. And we accept that. We don’t look at a bud and think it’s failing - we know it’s just not its time yet.
So why do we struggle to offer ourselves and each other that same grace? Why do we expect our growth to look the same as someone else’s? Why do we rush our process or feel behind, as if there’s some universal timeline we’re all supposed to follow?
Maybe it’s because we’re conditioned to measure our worth by visible progress - by checklists, timelines, and achievements.
Maybe it’s because we’ve forgotten how to celebrate the process, not just the outcome.
But what if flourishing isn’t something we chase - what if it’s something we nurture?
Flourishing is not about perfection or performance. It’s about alignment. It's about being rooted in what matters. It's about giving yourself sunlight, rest, nourishment, and patience - and trusting that growth is happening, even if you can’t see the petals just yet.
As I step into the second half of the year, I’m carrying this truth with me:
We are all blooming in our own way.
And in our own time - in our own rhythm - we are all flourishing.
