Sunday, December 27, 2009
Painting the Golden Gate Bridge
What took me so long to start this little gardening journey? My body and my psyche are already calling out to me with a chorus of "thank you, it's about time!". I found a folder of garden photos from January 2005, because I toyed with this idea back then. But I also created a non-profit that year, my husband Chris had back surgery, we toured Europe and next thing I knew five years had passed. That's the thing with time. It's going to keep marching on so we have to choose carefully how we're going to fill it.
After just a few days of regularly getting outside, drinking in the elements and dosing myself with free vitamin D from the sun, my spirits are up, the anger and resentment I've been hauling around lately are dissipating, my Virgo body feels good and grounded and my creative itch is being scratched by writing everyday. All in all, a pretty inexpensive alternative to therapy and supplements.
I noticed another pattern today. I have a tendency to avoid something if I don't think I have time to complete it then and there; why start if I can't finish it pronto and tie it up with a neat little bow? I rarely have chunks of time that allow me to completely organize my office, clean out my closets, write a whole song, learn a new guitar part, landscape the entire front yard. So, I'll avoid it all together.
By saying yes to gardening and writing every day, I am finding that even ten minutes of effort can be gratifying and productive. Today I continued my work on the beds I've been cleaning out. I had left some piles of debris yesterday, knowing that I would be back to it today and could clean it up then. Actually, a whole hour flew by and I was happy as the clams that were sacrificed for the chowder I had for lunch when my work was done. (Thanks guys)
I've heard that the city of San Francisco has people on salary whose full time, year round job is to paint the Golden Gate Bridge. As soon as they get to the end they start over, because it needs it again. Gardening is like that. The garden is a living, breathing, growing entity - a work in progress that will never be complete. Come to think of it, so is everything.