I can be harsh. I can look at a diseased or dying plant and have it affect me much more deeply than it should.
I can hone in on the problems of the garden and life.
Instead of seeing the whole picture, the beautiful flowers and plants and the birds that arrive with bravado, I look at what needs to be done, size up what needs work.
That is what hit me in the face, yesterday, as I looked at a zinnia whose leaves had gotten some sort of black spot. Yep, I took it personally.
Abut after watching “A Gardener’s World” a lovely show about gardens in England, I walked to my garden and thought, wow, I have done a lot of work and smiled … right before I dug in, and made a new path and began sweating like Shrek in the weather with a 77% dew point.
The mind shift and excitement came back to me as I saw possibility, and put away my stink-eye.
Sixty-six years old, and still have to work on my attitude.
In my life, I have met people who couldn’t figure out how to live. Life was always a problem. Nothing added up. Why can’t I have this, do that, look like …
Accepting things as they were or are, and not going down the path of self-doubt, or feeling angst and defeat is a big part of how one lives a peasant life in a day.
I am slow, but I am learning. I am seeing so much of life, and myself, in my garden.
Dirt that is rampant with fungus. It is there. The world will not end.
The plant that had glorious flowers yesterday, is dragging, today. There is no need to fret.
Weeds are coming up, again, where I thought I had gotten rid of them. Relax.
The hostas don’t like where they are. Move them and get on with your life.
You get the point. It is the same as in so many other areas of my life.
The dough I made didn’t rise properly. That need not be the benchmark for your day.
The 5 gallon pail with all of the birdseed fell over and spilled all over the patio. Shit happens. Smile anyway and laugh. The birds will still come, tomorrow.
Monte, the gardener from England, whose show I watch, made me realize I was being a tad anal about all of this, and that the garden (and life) will have its day, or most likely, a moment, when the flower is perfect, the plant is robust, the dough rose beautifully, and my hair looks pretty decent.
These are but moments in time. You take your mental snapshot and know that it is all going to change because that is how life is.
But to only see the diseased plant or the flower with the gimpy pedals or to think you are a failure because your dough didn’t rise? That is like living in a no-outlet.
And that isn’t how I want to live. I shall, each day, marvel at the flowers and plants and events that make me feel that sense of marvel, wonder, and fulfillment.
This moment is temporary.
And so is life.