Today, I spoke on a Lived Experience panel for a Crisis Intervention Training (CIT) put on by NAMI Dane County. The talk I gave was originally written in June and references strawberry season and why strawberries are so important to me. As I read through it, I was reminded that there is something in my love of strawberries that is more universal and can be translated to anyone’s experience. I want to take a little time to reflect on my time in the strawberry patch and its greater significance.
Everyone who knows me, knows I love strawberries. In the summer months, I literally will not stop talking about them and the joy that they bring me and how their beauty is magical. How my time in the patch feels almost spiritual, as I practice mindfulness and staying present in the moment with every aspect of the strawberry. The bright red color, the beautiful taste, the sweet aroma, the popping sound the plant makes as you pick them, the feeling of the earth beneath you as you touch each plant, searching for the ripe berries. I love strawberries so much; I even got a tattoo of one (pictured). The way they make my heart feel full is something I strive to share with others around me each season.
This past strawberry season, the family of a patient asked if there were any more freshly picked strawberries at the place where I work as a cook. “Our mother loves strawberries,” they told me, and I told them I completely understood, and would be happy to go out and pick some fresh since we grow them on site. I picked three or four and delivered them to the patient’s room. As I walked in with my little dish of strawberries, I got to see the patient’s face light up with joy, immediately followed by her entire family expressing excitement and gratitude that I had picked some fresh for her. A chorus of thanks and “you made her day” erupted, and I knew that moment had made my day too. I was formally introduced to the fellow strawberry lover, and I showed her my tattoo and told her I also appreciate the beauty of the strawberry, which broadened her smile. But what struck me, more than anything, was the power of that small little fruit and five minutes of my time to light up an entire room full of people.
In a particularly insightful conversation with a good friend later that day, after recounting this event, I realized that it is possible to find small little moments of joy that we can share in every day. It doesn’t have to be a strawberry; all we must do is look for the opportunity for something that brings us joy in a little moment, and then share it with others. For the rest of strawberry season, my friend and I would ask each other what our ‘strawberry’ was for that day.
The fact that a brief pocket of joy can be found in every day, no matter how stressful, is powerful, hopeful, and inspirational. If I take just a little time to look, I can usually find one. And, importantly, it is a concept that can last far beyond the three weeks of strawberry season.
What was your ‘strawberry’ today?
