planting and little birds

I'm working on our garden. Farming, even on a very small scale, is more difficult than it would seem to be. Finding a configuration of where to plant where everything is companionable and without discord is tough stuff. Then, actually finding time to plant is also an issue, because I am busy planting other things - violin lessons for N3, homework projects, dinner every night, six hours a day at work, helping boys become men, attempting to exercise more to eradicate some unwanted inches as a result of stress, and attempting to have a measure of fun in each day before Mr. Sandman (who, I have found, has never had wavy hair like Liberacci), is the garden of my life.

I have harvests - small moments of bliss with my boys, calm moments in the shower, and a full belly after a stressful afternoon. Sometimes it feels like the planting is all there is, with nary a bean (magical or otherwise) of harvest. But that's not true.

A few weeks ago I taught a group of about 40 women a lesson on peace of mind and joy. I'm not really sure I was qualified, as I can be very anxious and worry a lot about things I don't really need to. But the thing is, even in the planting, you're not alone. You can plant seeds of worry or of hope, and sometimes heartache is harvested (un)expectedly from either source. You're not the only person planting, hoping, hurting, emoting. Take comfort in the fact that there are other gardeners, whether you can see their plants or whether they are seedlings in the ground. Some seeds are weeds and it's good to pull them out before they cover everything. To parody and paraphrase the Weepies, "We are all gardeners, with harvests inside, never know what plant will grow...is it one you've planted before?" Even if all you can see is a craggy bed with clay for soil, you can imagine a garden. Butchart Gardens is a wonderful example of a literal garden made out of something that a lot of people thought was unsalvageable. Maybe you feel like a tar pit and there's "nothing green or good in (your) world."

Don't give up. Be still. Breathe. Be light - your plants will need it. Believe me.

I'm not sure any of this really made sense. I think my brain is out of seeds right now. The point is: I hope everyone reading this can find a ray of hope in this day. And two rays tomorrow. There are bound to be clouds, but all gardens need some rain in order to grow. May you not grow weary in the planting, and enjoy every harvest, big or small, that comes your way.