As I return to regular daily life as opposed to the new life I am creating, I finally see progress in getting our home ready to sell. I was gone for a few days working in California and adding to my mothers garden on my arm.
Weeks ago I made plans to have the yard basically stripped down to dirt save a few things that seemed very important to me. The weather and other circumstances had pushed the crew that was coming to being weeks behind. I was surrounded by jungle of which I was determined to ignore. I had in mind to leave most of my garden and landscape I had worked on for the past few years there for someone else. Maybe it was meant to be out of my control because I needed to not be present, but do to weather delays the boys who came to do the work began before I was able to return. I drove up to my house and my heart sank. A panic set in as I realized, that communication doesn’t always flow from one end of the chain to the other, sometimes information gets lost or left out. In this case, it was a lot of information. I stood in dismay as I witnessed a dump trailer full of the last 5 years of love and care I had put into my yard. I looked at the stark earth and felt it give way beneath my feet. At first it took my breath away, followed by intense stress and anger that the time and money I had put into my yard was haphazardly lying in a trailer that would soon become apart of the earth at the local dumps. Plus the expense it would be costing to pay someone to erase it. Rocks I had joyfully collected by hand for 5 years that were to be a path leading to my open doors, matting, recycled mulch, weed barriers, gravel, turf….list goes on…gone. For a moment I had a breakdown. 2o years I lived in this house, raised my children, felt joy, love, compassion, pain, sorrow, memories (some written for safe keeping and some left just for the heart to feel). My garden has always been apart of my dream in this home and I willingly gave much of that time away for more meaningful moments with family, friends and other memories that were of much importance, knowing that it would come to be when it was time. It wasn’t time.
I had a few days sacredly reserved for my garden each year and beyond that it was just as time allowed, tucked in between the hustle and bustle of life. But each of those moments, breathing in the sweet fragrance of first hyacinth and tulips followed by iris, lily of the valley, peonies, lilac, roses, thyme, rosemary, basil until the end of summer with honeysuckle and the mossy smell of fading leaves and parched earth. Over the last few years, I began to realize that I couldn’t finish my garden because I hadn’t began “ME”. I could visualize it and feel it, I loved the moments I had with my bare feet and hands in the soil. The new trees had begun to really grow, the lilac decided to finally grow up and the ground cover began to expand, and yet I couldn’t rid them of the choking weeds that seemed relentless.
As I began to salvage what I could from the bare scene of what my eyes could see yesterday, I took and deep breath and suddenly felt light. I felt a tad bit surprised by the relief I was feeling. I laughed and realized that over a year ago I had decided that this house, this yard…. it was no longer for me. That it was meant to be a place for someone new to possibly make their dream come to fruition. In an instant, my outlook changed and I realized that the control I wanted over the situation is because I wanted my work there to mean something, and now, for the 1st time I realized it did, it mattered to me. The one person that I thought understood the meaning, well he did not. But for me, it meant that I got what joy I did by the work, not by the finished product, that the path I was on was the right one, and it wasn’t paved with hand picked stones. My life had already started somewhere else and I laughed that I, again, was being led and the situations in my life were as such that I could follow my heart and let the desire to control each factor of my life fade away without fear.
Most days I am cognizant and vigilant at seeing the beauty around me, but this week, it took the earth being ripped out from under me to remind me that I am where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to be, and the value of the beauty around me, lies within me, not the things I create or never finish, but what I create becoming a part of me, who I am. Every moment I spent in my garden was perfectly lovely and so is the soil beneath it. There it is, ready for someone else to make what they wish. Knowing the folks in my neighborhood, it will be grass. Whatever it is, it is theres to love, I already loved it and take what it gave with me.
May the earthly things that bring you joy are probably ‘meant to be’, but remember that all ‘meant to be’s’ may not have been ‘meant to be’ forever.
I was given only one spark of madness and I will not waste it….
Thanks to my mother for lighting my fire and reminding that this spark of madness is a sign of a fantastic, fulfilling life and she didn’t pass on the crazy to be wasted.