Finding Your People: The Power of Community (In and Beyond Flowers)
Vonda spent her whole weekend in the yard — twelve bags of leaves, ten rolls of pine straw, and an unplanned fence project courtesy of the neighbor's dog. But she'll tell you she doesn't hand that work off to the lawn crew, partly because she likes being out there listening to what's going on in the neighborhood. Which turned out to be the perfect segue into this week's conversation: what community really means, why it's easy for florists to never leave their industry bubble, and what happens when you step outside it.
Lori's unexpected new community
Lori is honest about the struggle: the flower world runs around the clock, and it's easy for the industry to be your only community. Her way out came by accident. Her 91-year-old dad Lenny lives where there's a little chapel service on site, and instead of hauling him to her own church at nine (mid-renovation, cords taped everywhere), she started taking him to the 11 o'clock service in his building. She expected to help him build an independent habit. Instead, she fell in love. The congregation — people far more seasoned in life than she is — light up when she arrives; she helps with the technology; she shares a hymn book with her dad. "I love these people so much," she says, and something about being in that room calms her down. They don't stress over trivial things, because the things they worry about are real. The payoff shows up Monday morning: she arrives at her first meeting of the week with a whole new perspective. Vonda added the business case — being in a different community doesn't just shift perspective, it sparks ideas: watching how another group handles something can show you a better way to run your own thing.
Kindness breeds kindness — the neighborhood test
Vonda had her own community moment this week. Someone in her neighborhood Facebook group complained about kids riding bikes, pulling wheelies, being loud — and it genuinely bothered her. So when the boys stopped at the end of her driveway while she worked in the yard, she went over, dumped her wheelbarrow, and chatted with them. When they rode off, they waved: "Ma'am, have a really nice day." Her conclusion: treat kids with respect and they're not a problem — kindness breeds kindness, and a community is supposed to be people taking care of each other. Lori and her husband Mark are the same way; when neighborhood kids ended up playing football across their driveway, Mark's response was "y'all can have at it, play in our yard." It takes a village — and the village has to actually want the kids in it.
Your shop is a community. So is your industry.
The hosts widened the lens: if you own a flower shop, you already lead a community. We call it culture, but it's community — people who need to feel wanted, needed, and heard. And beyond the shop door, the floral industry is full of communities with a seat open: AIFD (which Lori admits once intimidated her — "don't make me go" — until volunteering showed her they're normal humans who happen to be great at design), the Society of American Florists, Women in Flowers, and Flower Clique's own Shop Talk. Dip your toe in and somebody on that dock will pull you in. The underlying need, as Lori put it, is the desire of our hearts to belong.
Community outside the day job makes you better at the day job
Lori's favorite proof is her oldest son, Davis — a finance guy by day who was flying home from Nicaragua (to his 37-weeks-pregnant wife) as they recorded. He'd spent the weekend helping give wheelchairs to children in an orphanage who had never been able to attend school because they weren't mobile — now they can go for the first time. That community makes him a better husband, dad, and son. The same logic applies to florists: maybe you're an owner who hasn't touched flowers all week — another community might be exactly where your gifts get used. And for the women listening who feel there's no time left over after business and family, Lori read a passage she loves from Jen Hatmaker about elephants: when a mama elephant gives birth, the females of the herd circle her in protective formation, then celebrate the new life together — and that, Hatmaker writes, is what women do for each other when someone in their community is vulnerable or creating something new. Close ranks. Have each other's backs.
And men? Community may just look different — Lori's husband finds his on the golf course; Vonda's father found his in fast-pitch softball. The point stands for everyone: step outside your routine, find your people, and you'll come back to your shop calmer, sharper, and more grounded.
Key takeaways
- The floral industry can quietly become your only community — stepping outside it brings back fresh perspective and ideas.
- Your shop's "culture" is really a community, and you're its leader: people need to feel wanted, needed, and heard.
- Industry communities — AIFD, SAF, Women in Flowers, Shop Talk — have a seat for you if you'll take the step in.
- Kindness breeds kindness, in a neighborhood and in a shop.
- Serving somewhere your day job doesn't reach uses gifts your business can't — and makes you better at everything else.