and they never, ever host a tea for the people they love.
Because they’re too fixated on those little details.
PinksPosies&Pearls:I think it’s beautiful and inspiring.
It’s also probably a damaging hobby for someone who fixates & has anxiety??
Perfection is not attainable!
Right now we are learning to fold a napkin. That’s it. Just a little napkin.
A little napkin that gets used in the ceremony. Inconsequential, right? Silly?
Not at all. A venerated tool, worthy of studying.
Because if something is worth doing, it’s worth doing with your whole heart.
And I really love that??
I hope you’re being gentle with yourself this week, friend.
You’ve definitely earned a bit of gentleness.??????
“We’re going to this, right? I feel like we definitely need to go to this.”
Ranar didn’t need to turn to know what Grace was talking about. He had been waiting for her to pounce on him with the flyer from the moment he’d arrived on site that morning.
He loved the methodical progression of a wedding job: weeks of preparation, days of work, and then seeing it tangibly come to life, one wall of roses at a time. He was too busy for chit chat right now, placing arrangements and setting up the bridal arch, and he wasn’t at all interested in the soft pink flyer he knew she held.
He himself had rescued those flyers from a summer storm, because he truly was, proven at every turn, just a stupid, unlucky snake.
Pink Blossom - Open House
Embrace your Flower Epoch!
Join us for an evening of refreshment, flowers and prizes,
As we officially open our doors to the community. .
He had received the same flyer, along with every other business in town. Ranar had let the pastel sheet of paper slide directly into the wastebasket, only to find it tacked on the wall later that same day, directly in his line of sight as he did billing for that weekend’s wedding.
“I found this in the trash,” his mother had pointed out cheerfully. “I didn’t want it to be accidentally thrown away before you had a chance to record the date.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it.” He’d avoided his mother’s eye altogether, refusing to turn as he pulled the flyer from the wall, wadding it in a ball, then dropping it into the trash once more. When he left at the end of the day, several hours after his parents, Ranar found the flyer again, smoothed out, and helpfully placed on the dashboard in his car.
And now Grace was getting in on the act.
“Why would I go? Did you ask yourself the answer to that question before those words bubbled up to the surface, Gracie? ‘Why on earth would Ranar want to attend this, when of all the things in the world he doesn’t want to go to, he doesn’t want to go to this thing the most?’ Did you ask yourself that?”
Grace only rolled her eyes. “Actually, smart ass, I did think about the answer to that. Perception. Public perception is why you should go. Do you want people to think you’ve been beaten by this?”
”Ihavebeen beaten by this.”
He felt something strike him on the back, but didn’t bother turning, too engaged in fitting together the pieces of the arch, his tail holding up the side arm.
“You havenotbeen beaten by this. And that’s what you want people to see. You are unbothered. Moisturized. In your lane. Ready to bounce back. Like, the worst thing you can do isnotgo.”
“I can think of plenty of worse things.”
