When flowers bloom

It is spring now. All around, some flowers have bloomed—bright and open, ready for the world. But maybe you look at yourself and see only a small bud, still waiting, still wondering:

“Will I ever be like them?”

For a long time, I asked myself the same question. I watched others shine and bloom while I stood quietly on the sidelines. The answer I’ve learned is simple, but not easy:

It’s not yet my season.

Every flower has its time. Some open their petals in spring: violets, lilacs, peonies. Others wait for summer: roses, daisies, bergamot. Some, like the azalea, wait even longer. Some are winter lilies, waiting for a cold day to bloom.

If you try to rush your own season, you only create pain.

No matter how hard you wish, you can’t force a flower to open before it’s ready. You can’t force yourself either. Real growth is slow. It happens, quietly, while you’re not looking.

I used to compare myself to others—wondering if my turn would ever come. The more I compared, the more it seemed out of reach. But if every flower bloomed at once, we’d lose the beauty of surprise, the harmony of taking turns.

All we can do is tend to what’s ours. Even a flower in the right season sometimes doesn’t bloom. It needs water, sunlight, and care, but not too much, not too little.

And so is life. If you work too hard, you burn out. If you give nothing, nothing grows. You need to provide just enough of everything, not too much, not too little.

So what should you do now? Your job, for now, is to prepare.

Water your roots with kindness. Give yourself restful nights and gentle encouragement. Put in effort, but don’t drain yourself dry.

Just enough. Not too much, not too little.

When the world feels like it’s moving without you, remember: there will be a time for you, too. Life is not a race, and no two gardens are alike. And the grass will always look greener on the other side.

If your friends are blooming now and you are still a bud, it doesn’t mean you’ll never change. It doesn’t mean your story is less beautiful. It simply means your season hasn’t yet arrived.

The best flowers come after patience, care, and hope. And when you bloom, you will not only open—you will flourish and amaze, in your own time and in your own way.

So be patience, friend.

You'll bloom soon.

In your own time.

This is the 100th post from The Tiny Wisdom. To commemorate this milestone, I rewrote the very first blog post I published on this blog: When flowers bloom.

It seems surreal that it has been almost 3 years since the first post, and that this is the 100th post. And I wouldn't be here if it weren't for the people who support and read this newsletter.

So this time, I want to thank you for being here, for reading this newsletter, and for giving me a purpose in life.

Thank you, friend.

I appreciate you.

I hope you find this insightful. Remember:

It's not going to be easy,
But it's not impossible.

Your friend,
Brian.