The power of consideration

To be considered is to be loved.

A friend sent me a video she saw here on Substack of a man handing out bouquets of flowers to elderly women as he walked by. In each clip, he did the same thing. He said “excuse me” to the woman, told her she looked beautiful, then handed her the flowers. Each time, the women had a similar reaction. They were first surprised that someone was stopping them on the street, then shocked they were being called beautiful, then flabbergasted at the offering of flowers. Almost every single one of them said “for me, really?”—as if they couldn’t believe it were true or possible. It was evident they were used to blending into the background, to being passed over by pedestrians and society at large as they made their ways across town. This random act of kindness was so unexpected, and the randomness is only one part of what made it so potent. The other is the simple truth that to be considered is to be loved.

It’s funny, or perhaps just telling, that this video was sent to me by the same friend who once sent me unprompted flowers when I was struggling. My mom was in the hospital and I was navigating many difficult emotions around it. I was also in a freelance lull and had stepped away from teaching barre, so without much else on my schedule aside from the hospital visits, I spent a lot of time under the weight of my thoughts. I still remember the day I heard a knock at the door in the dead of winter and opened it to find a bright bundle of flowers on my doorstep. I was confused at first, given it wasn’t my birthday or anniversary or any other notable holiday. But with the bouquet was a card from my friend acknowledging the difficult chapter I was in and telling me that she was thinking of me. It quite literally brightened my day and immediately made me feel less alone. The best part is, I still have the card hanging on my fridge where I can see it and think of her every day.

On paper, what my friend did was simple, but the impact was significant. We live in an individualistic society where we’re conditioned to not just think for ourselves but of ourselves a lot of the time. It can be difficult to break away from our day-to-day, to lift our heads above the current of life and check to see how our fellow swimmers are doing. As it was, my friend had talked to me on the phone, giving me the gift of her time as she listened to what I was struggling with. Having her to talk to was helpful in and of itself, yet she went the extra mile to show me she not only heard me but saw me. She considered how I was feeling—how isolated and drowning in grief—and how I might feel if I had another gesture of support. She essentially tossed me a life preserver and it made such a difference I still think about it nearly two years later.

This is the power of consideration. It speaks volumes, no matter the situation you’re in. It’s honestly even more important during conflict because it’s how we ensure our impact matches our intention. If I say this thing, will it help them or hurt them? What I’m feeling is valid, but is how I’m reacting productive and kind? I’ve found that considering the other person during a difficult conversation is what builds trust and strengthens a relationship—and it makes it all the easier to cross any other difficult bridge you get to because it reinforces the foundation.

It’s perhaps no surprise that when that same friend and I disagree on something we still have each other in the forefront of our minds. Recently, we came together to talk about something that was bothering us: I had written something that struck a chord for her and she had unsubscribed in the moment. We were both hurt, yet we both still assumed the best intent in the other. She did not assume I had written what I did to hurt her and I didn’t assume she never wanted to read anything I write ever again. Instead, we met each other with grace and curiosity to hear the other’s side, knowing and respecting that we each felt how we did for a reason.

The way my friend and I consider each other is why our relationship is one that I treasure. It’s how I know we will be friends for a lifetime (though we’ve probably been friends through many lifetimes already). It’s how I know, after all these years together, that I am loved. I’m still delighted by our interactions, by the offering of her support, but unlike the women in the video she sent me, I’m never surprised. She knows me. She understands me. She shows me so time and time again. And what a gift it is to be seen and considered by her. What a beautiful, remarkable, bright-bouquet-in-the-winter-of-your-life kind of gift. 🤍