Soil through my fingers
Yesterday morning I was having trouble sleeping. I awoke with the birds between 3:30-and 4:00 am. After about an hour I got up and went outside and pulled weeds. The grass had been overtaking the flower bed near the bedroom window, the hostas were obscured by overgrowth, the spirea was fighting for space with the fern, and my princess lilies were pathetically pale. I also seem to have discovered it's a quail that wakes me in the morning.
I always amazes me how therapeutic weed pulling / gardening is for me.
As a girl, I thought it was torture when told by my parents to go weed the garden, yet one of my first jobs was weeding for Sister Quinton at the house where Lynette now lives. I remember Sis. Quinton fondly, but I seldom see her face in my mind - only her white hair and her apron, much like the one on a previous post. She patiently taught me how to pull the bigger weeds, and then stir the soil with my fingers to loosen and pull the smaller ones. I remember the morning dew, and the clammy feel of the Seattle soil beneath her tree. I don't know how long I did this job. I think it was every two weeks for a summer. I now wonder how oftenshe had to go back over to redo my work.
It did something for me then other than provide a mere pocket change. I started to appreciate earth, and the feeling of dirt in my hands, and planting annuals. I think it was my first true experience with gardening basics.
Back to yesterday, I felt restless. My list of things to do is much greater than my capacity to conceive of actually carrying out all the plans. I was overwhelmed, anxious, and as Van would say, "I was in a mood".
Pulling weeds settled me a somewhat.
While weeding, I sorted out some thinking and realized that I have been rattled by not placing my energy into the things that mattered most. Instead every little breeze determines where I go. The more I worked, the stronger the impression that my priorities have been out of line with my values. For example, I am buying jewelery from a book party that I had felt pressured to do, rather than putting the money toward the garage door opener that I want for this winter. I have been scoping out Facebook when I am better using the time for prayer. I'm WW but then eating things that prevent weight loss.
I thought about the funeral for Cindy we attended on Friday morning. She died of cancer eight years after initial diagnosis that said she would only live a few weeks - twice. I met Cindy about 18 years ago working at the hospital. She was a rather large, and direct person. I remember that she did not mince words when talking to the clients we served. She didn't not appear to be someone I'd consider religious. In fact I think she was agnostic. Through the course of dealing with cancer, both she and Kyrk (her husband), discovered many miracles and developed a deep faith in God.
I thought, where am I with this? I wasn't just pulling up flowers to check the roots. Like my flower bed, I have let too many things (weeds) choke out the flowers and shrubs...the garden foundations. It is time to pull the weeds and fertilize the foundational plantings and let growth occur again.
You know, sometimes it's just good to feel the earth again.
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