giving out flowers

standing in a city centre giving out flowers is a strange experience. a flower is, maybe obviously maybe not, superfluous to human life, yet nice to have.

people walk past in a hurry, careful not to catch each other's eyes. i think that's what creates the surprise factor when you run into a friend - not the fact of running into each other, but the fact that you let your guard down enough to recognise the friendly face.

when i catch their eye, or they walk close by. i ask them 'would you like a flower' and people answer 'i'm alright'. i want to say, i hear you're alright, but that was not my question. i wonder if you really are? maybe you need to hear it out loud. "i'm alright". you probably are, i am just the kind of person that worries.

some people take the flower, but immediately want to give it back when they find out that, as well as giving out flowers, we're inviting people to write letters. the transactional nature of our world... you don't get something for nothing. no such thing as a free lunch. this is possibly true. but i just want you to have the flower, and that's all the transactional traction i want to have. i want to give you a flower and in return you give me the satisfaction of having the flower accepted.

i am terrible with gifts, always have been. i don't like getting presents for others. it causes me, or rather i cause myself, a lot of anxiety. i find getting presents, like receiving compliments, slightly embarrassing even if there is a little bit of pleasure mixed in.

perhaps this year's acts many acts gift giving, cake making, guest hosting, time offering are not a sign of a growing generosity, but a perverse way to make others suffer as much as i do.