19 Comments
May 8, 2023Liked by Susie Middleton

Your beautiful flower photos make it easy to understand your obsession with dahlias; there’s a powerful sturdiness to their petals and overall shape and stature, and a richness of hues of each variety that makes it hard to look away (or stop thinking about) That’s why I don’t grow them! But I love them all the same!

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May 1, 2023Liked by Susie Middleton

Yes—my crazy insecurities come pouring out at 3:00 am. I have been counting backwards from 100, to little avail. I will try counting dahlias.

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Apr 30, 2023Liked by Susie Middleton

As always your words are just so real and vulnerable, and as a result so comforting and it's what makes reading you such a gift. I love the counting of the flowers and the photos and names to match, those beautiful blossoms are like your good friends coming along to soothe your worries and remind you of the beauty and grace the world still holds. Love to you Susie and thank you so much for the joy of gettin lost in your words. x

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Apr 30, 2023Liked by Susie Middleton

Great article! I also love your vulnerability and honesty. As I read this I was filled with a certain peace that God alone can bring. It made me realize that what I think is an abnormal plight; feeling so alone in the middle of the night and believing that I am the only one who has fear and ruminates on life passing by so quickly may not be that unusual at all. All of a sudden I do not feel alone or misunderstood. Thanks for sharing from your heart.

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Apr 30, 2023Liked by Susie Middleton

No longer living where I can have a flower garden, but I would love to give dahlias a try😊

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Apr 30, 2023Liked by Susie Middleton

Oh my. Susie...

I have no words.

Unusual for me.

All I have is gratitude.

For this beautiful post.

For you teaching me about the glory of growing dahlias.

For your vulnerability and strength and courage and honest, open heart.

I will be thinking of you in the wee hours.

And I hope I can play my antique singing bowls for you someday. I think they’ll speak to you ❤️

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Come sit by me. Drinking, sober, exercised, or exhausted: I am a crappy sleeper jolted by the moment when my mind refuses to let go of the side of the pool long after my body has. There are all sorts of physiological explanations for this, I gather, and then there’s plain old fear, and it likes to take over the control freak steering wheel. I’ve taken to counting backwards. If it’s late and I still can’t sleep, I read Annie’s books. If I wake early in a panic, I read Mary Oliver. Maybe I need to revisit dahlias...Beautiful post 🙏🏻❤️

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