The Garden of You…

Reflecting on the Quiet Lessons from the Northern Queensland Rainforest

The moment I stepped into the Northern Queensland rainforest, it felt like something ancient inside me took a breath I didn’t know it had been holding. There was no welcome sign, no agenda, just presence and an unspoken reminder: you’re allowed to soften here.

I didn’t go looking for metaphors.

They found me anyway. The moss on the stones, overgrowth hugging the trees, the way the rain didn’t ask permission before it began falling and even the tangled roots felt like old truths I’d buried beneath layers of ‘functioning.’ I kept thinking this is what my inner world looks like. Some parts blooming, a few overgrown and quietly waiting to be tended.

The truth is: we all carry gardens inside us.

Some are wild, some weary while others are just waiting to be noticed but most of us are so busy watering everyone else’s, we forget to pause and ask:

“What’s growing inside me?”

“What have I let overgrow without meaning to?”

“What’s quietly asking for my attention, without screaming for it?”

The rainforest taught me:

Growth doesn’t always look graceful and sometimes it’s tangled, messy, damp even dark before the light returns. It’s sitting still, photosynthesizing, healing in silence and sometimes, the most sacred tending is not doing more but pulling less.

Less obligation.

Less guilt.

Less noise.

What I’m learning to ask myself now:

• What weeds have been taking up space in my mental garden?

• What joy needs watering?

• What part of me simply needs rest and not fixing or forcing?

Turns out tending to yourself isn’t self-indulgent, it is intelligent stewardship, nervous system literacy and choosing presence over performance.

Maybe the whole point is…

We are not here to bloom on command but to become familiar with our own soil. To know which seasons ask us to grow and which ask us to root and learning to love the version of ourselves who still feels messy, unfinished even in process.

The Garden of You is not a productivity project but a quiet return to care and a promise to water what matters. You don’t owe the world a constant bloom but you do owe yourself moments of tending.

My invitation to you:

 What part of you needs tending this week?

🧡 Mary

Keep Blooming With Me

If you’re ready to honor your own blooming, even in the messy, in-between seasons — I’d love to invite you into my free 7-Day Flower Challenge. 

Each day, is a gentle reflection inspired by my book Flowers While Here — seven petals, seven reminders that life still blooms, even after the thorns.