Daffodil

The Beautiful Ones: “they hurt you every time” Prince

This plant is usually considered the darling, welcoming sign of Spring after a dreary winter. It comes in shades of white, pink, orange, and yellow. But in the beginning of June, the daffodils are done. Blooms are gone, Leaves are spent. I wait until the stems are yellowish, that’s when they’re easy to disconnect from the bulb. If I pull too hard, the bulb pops out and must be pushed back deep enough to bloom for next season.

 I chose to be deliberately gentle, because all parts of the plant are toxic. Animals avoid them. That’s one of the reasons they can spread so easily across landscapes. If swallowed it can cause hospitalization for animals and people. Exposure to too much sap can cause rashes and burns. The toxic parts of its genetic makeup are being dissected and studied by scientists in the help of fighting diseases like Alzheimer’s and Cancer.

Why interact with something so toxic? It’s pretty. Once I was encouraged to collaborate with a plant person in a different field of horticulture. It was a “pretty” idea that eventually resulted in me getting burned by verbal sap. The phrases “bad business practice” and “conflict of interests” were used. It’s one thing to be told no, but it’s another thing if you imply, I’m unprofessional. So, I was deliberately gentle in my response and took my leave. I found ointment in the most surprising way. Since this individual was concerned about competition, I immediately went to an actual competitor and presented the same request. Not only did they reassure me of my professionalism, but “they” collaborated with me and continue to this day.

That sap, I mentioned before, is described as a “mucilage” (a gelatinous solution from plant roots, stems and seeds, that at times can be used as an adhesive in medicine). I mentioned how it physically can burn humans, but it can do worse to plants. I learned this because I made a floral arrangement with daffodils and irises, yellows and purples. The daffodils looked amazing but the irises within days started wilting and the water was murky. I arranged it again and it happened again. That’s when I learned Daffodils need to be “conditioned”: set alone in cool water so the sap can flow out, then it can be placed with other flowers. If not, the sap will clog up stems of other plants preventing them from absorbing water, which in turn causes them to wilt faster and die. While recovering from the verbal sap burn, I realized I was also in the process of being clogged by a another creative. Why? Because they were “pretty”. They'd offered opportunity and generosity, I wanted to make sure that their beauty was seen. Energy that should have kept my creative petals perky went to promoting theirs. Instead of thankfulness I was gifted with rashes from their defense mechanisms being triggered. I started to wilt. The vase that I thought would be the perfect setting became emotional, mentally and almost physically unsafe.

For the amateur, it would make sense to be enamored by the Daffodil, but their beauty is temporary, their presence can be invasive, and their survival depends on their toxicity.

Just like these “pretty” plants, some “Pretty” people ( physical, intellectual or creative) could “condition” themselves by therapy or other practices, to release toxic trauma before emotionally and professionally engaging with others. Could deliberate gentleness dissect the pain that causes toxicity from the person? I don’t know because that’s not my field of study. My field of study does allow me to not be surprised that the Botanical name of the Daffodil is Narcissus Pseudonarcissus. Garden Wisely!