Mornings are always telling the truth about us. Some arrive rushed—full of movement, noise, and things to catch up to. Others unfold slowly, like quiet days we almost sleep through. But somewhere in between, there is a softer way to meet the morning. I’ve found that when you begin to identify with a flower, mornings stop feeling rushed… and they stop feeling wasted. They become intentional . Almost symbolic. Like something is gently blooming alongside you. Your morning flower