Sometimes it feels like the world, in all its glory, is conspiring against you. Never mind it actually isn’t, it just sometimes feels that way. And no matter how rational you want to be, once you feel like you’re being held down in the mud, it’s hard to stand. Yesterday was one of those days for me.
And I did want to be rational. And I did want to stand. Fortunately, there was a task needing completion and it held great promise on the lift-one’s-spirits front: the tomatoes needed to be planted.
It’s funny how, when I feel down in the mud, digging in the dirt eases my soul. Maybe it’s the digging itself, signaling the desire to dig one’s way out of whatever “hole” in which one feels buried. Maybe it’s the hard labor, freeing one’s muscles from stress and tension. Maybe it’s a lot of things. I have no idea.
I only know that when I started tilling that soil, then amending it, my mind strayed from my troubles. And then when I started plotting the placement of each plant, I was further distracted from the morning’s mess. By the time I had tidied up the yard and watered the plants, I was calm. There’s still a roiling sea to contend with, but my vessel is steady. For now.
Today I found a bit of peace in the garden. I sorely needed it. And I’m grateful for every blister, splinter and aching muscle. Amen.
PS If you’re thinking to yourself, “Mikki, why on earth did you plant all those sticks?”, I’ll tell ya. We have a lot of cats in our neighborhood, and unlike with dogs, cat owners aren’t required to keep them reigned-in in any way, shape or fashion. Those sticks are a natural deterrent in the war against cat feces (which will kill the food in your garden). Turns out, cats don’t like sticks up their butts. Who knew?