So you’re likely thinking “what is this Her Collective anyways?”
Let me explain. I’m the kind of girl that stops to notice the details. These last few weeks, with the arrival of spring, I’ve been watching my tiny garden patch with uninhibited glee. I don’t know the names of most of my plants because I am a naïve gardener who operates on spontaneity and wishful thinking: “Yes! This random but exquisitely pretty plant will flourish in this partially sunny, mostly shady spot, because I believe it to be so!” Perennials are the epitome of a miracle to me- something from nothing, and not only that, bigger than last year!
I have a 10 year old rhododendron that’s doing a-ok. Admittedly, I had to warm up to this plant because for about 93% of the year it is a plain and uninspired sight. But for that short remainder of time that bush in bloom is a real eye-catching head-turner. A massive chunk of our garden becomes a sheer flowering colourful mass. A whole blooming bush! Mine are cotton candy pink, and up next to my near fluorescently green Japanese maple, it’s a thing to behold.
But this week, it wasn’t only the collective beauty that stopped me in my garden tracks. I plucked one intact flower from its cluster of a dozen. And I let the individual design of the one draw me in. I noticed the wave of the velvety petals. I saw the tenderly curved stamen and the bold stalk protruding. There were delicate and moist red triangles on the tip of that stigma, which couldn’t have been more than 3 millimeters wide. And if that wasn’t enough to lure the passing bees and Destiny’s by, only one petal of every five was outdone in décor, with subtle yellow and maroon splashes of colour. It was exquisite.
And I saw that it was the joining of these enchanting individual blooms that made the collective effect a show-stopper. Beauty in the one, but extravagance in the together. And maybe it sounds a bit cliché to compare you and I to a garden, but I would like to suggest that there is a exponential effect when our individual unique design (indeed full of wonder in its own right) is held together alongside the others. In this garden of Her, diversity is both necessary and honoured, lending rich and subtle flavors to the scenery.
Back to the original question: “what is this Her Collective anyways?” I wish I could tell you, but I haven’t yet seen it all in living colour. I’ve got a glimpse with the seven women in on the dream, and I’ve tasted the richness. We’re already eclectic, and we’re celebrating our diversity and the strengths we each bring to the table. We’re also standing alongside in the hard moments. But Her Collective has been a collective dream from the beginning. We’ll start by gathering at a few tables, over delicious food and equally nourishing conversation.
My invitation is as follows: I’m wondering if you’d consider holding your life up beside her and her and her and her, to make a collective statement. Together we tell a diverse and textured story of truth. I imagine this unified us will be beautiful yes, but also robust and tender, courageous and inspiring, still and active. Your story, and your personality, and your passions, and your dreams, they will make us all better, calling us to know the complexities of our Creator in unexplored ways.
Would you join us?
June 11 | 6-8 | Nancy’s garden [19335 70 ave] | RSVP below
Written by Destiny Loeve