Today was a azure blue Monday. The sky stayed dark blue all day and the crisp clouds, starched white, floated alone all by themselves, never holding hands and making a group. Every time I looked up it was blue sky and white clouds, made me think of the pictures of the sky in a child’s book. So relaxing to sit in the swing and watch the fall sky all day.

I ate my breakfast on the porch watching the titmice and cardinals and wrens enjoying the morning. One of the titmice took a sunflower seed to the sunroom roof gutter and tapped it on the gutter edge trying to break it open. Penelope sat up on alert, ready to bark and attack, but she never could find where the noise was coming from. Sounded like a woodpecker drumming on the roof. That little bird made dozens of trip to the gutter.

The sun deferred to the beautiful fall sky tonight and lay her head down in a yellow white light, tinting the sunset a pale peachy pink. Forgot to look to see what Father Sky pinned in the dark canopy of the night sky but I’ll be sure the check tomorrow night’s pageantry.

Was taking some photos of my favorite blooms this morning before they retire for the fall and I captured one red million bell bloom right in the middle of an urn full of dark purple blooms. When I first got these flowers they were red, white, and purple, but after a long windy rainstorm months ago only the dark purple ones flourished. The white and red blooms disappeared. Now on the last leg of their blooming cycle each of the four urns have one little red bloom in the middle of the purple blooms. The little red blooms stand up straight in each urn, tall and strong, not intimidated by the bigger blooms, each little bloom ready to support bees and butterflies and humming birds and moths.

I was thinking, wish I had the courage of this red bloom in a river of purple blooms, to stand at attention in its uniqueness, demanding to be noticed. I never want to be noticed. I’m very content to blend in the crowd. If I need courage I tell myself I’ve buried a child and a husband so I’ve already experienced some frightening moments of life. I tell myself, “Buck up buttercup,” and trudge through what scares me.

We need to be brave enough to be our true selves, honest in our portrayal in the world. You stand out in the crowd when you’re unique because everyone else is is trying to blend in with the world, to not be noticed, and when you’re different you’re interesting. Takes lot of courage to be yourself when the whole world wants you to fit in their molds.

As I age, I think I’m just now beginning to break from the shell of how the world sees me and have become my true self, without make up and a bra! I don’t care anymore about what people say and I say, “No,” if I don’t want to but it’s a firm polite, “No,” I hope. I’m making myself happy by embracing my uniqueness. I’ve found at age 67, I’m free to be me! I can sit in a porch swing for hours happily watching the song birds in my yard. I’m the old lady obsessed with song birds! I’m uniquely me!

I’m also thinking that what makes us different is what makes each of us beautiful. A pot full of red blooms is not that interesting but one red bloom in pot of purple makes you stop and take notice. Tomorrow I’m going to watch and see if the butterflies and the humming birds seek out the red bloom in each urn.

Being different from everybody gives color to our world. There’s beauty in being unique. We all hide our quirks trying to fit into a mold of what’s normal. Let’s learn to break the molds and be our true selves. Embrace being unique!

“You are not a pretzel. Don’t twist yourself to fit into who you think people want you to be —just to make them happy – which then makes your soul feel all twisty-like. Be who you are. Accept and love all your quirky aspects. Make your soul happy. Don’t be a pretzel. Be your whole enchilada,” – Karen Salmansohn.