Not everything needs to be turned into a teaching moment.
This week, a friend celebrated her birthday by inviting a group of us over to make our own teacup flower arrangements.
First, we soaked a cube of green foam, which we learned is called oasis, and then stuffed it in the tea cup. We cut the ends of our flowers at an angle to give them the best chance to stay hydrated and fresh. Finally, we poked those flower stems into the oasis one by one.
I happened to be sitting next to the person guiding the process and decided this was the perfect opportunity to learn what is required for making a proper bouquet
“How about I just copy you and you explain what you’re doing at each step so I can learn?” I suggested.
“Sure,” she replied graciously.
But by the time I had finished stripping the leaves off of my roses and yellow daisies, I looked over and she was already halfway done creating her bouquet.
And it occurred to me that this moment designed for camaraderie around a shared delight in beauty was in danger of becoming yet another task to be mastered.
Hardly restful and certainly not the intent of the gathering.
So I began to play with the flowers and imagine how I would like to see them arranged in the tea cup—which turned out to be both freeing and fun.
As we chatted around the table, bouquets emerged that were as lovely and unique as each woman creating them.
And I am wondering what other endeavors might be more pleasurable if approached with the spirit of discovery.