Stealing the Mind from Care?

 Flowers with the sweetest odors 

filled all the sunny air,

and not alone refreshed the sense, 

but stole the mind from care.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I sit here at the small table that fits this space, looking out at the tops of my flowers recently planted into boxes outside my windows. They themselves, in their natural splendor are beautiful...the boxes...not so beautiful. They are too small for the window frames.  I was hoping that it would be okay but I know from my research into expert opinion that the box should match or be bigger than the window frame itself. Sigh! I assume they look "tacky!". Once again, I did something imperfect and I am now wondering and worried about what others will think. This return of a thought focus I have been without for many months, I know, is a carry over from the open vulnerability I experienced yesterday. 

I am not like other people in the way I view things.  What is okay for me in my domestic attempts is not okay for most.  I realize that.  I look at nature and see the perfect beauty in the imperfect disorder of it. I do little to manipulate or control it...and when I do it all feels so wrong to myself and likely to others who are witnessing my awkward attempts. I just wanted flowers growing in their own lovely way in front of my house and that is exactly what they are doing. Why does it matter what type of box they are in or how they appear to humans? The wasps who are still in control of this household, because of my fear of them :), like the flowers just as they are. 

It is all good. It is all as it is.