I’m sitting at my computer (there’s a shock, right?) about to write a post in an online workshop I’m taking. Part of the point of the workshop is to build a habit to show up every day and post something. Whatever we want. Writing, video, audio, artwork. Anything.
I’ve already posted my first day. And now I notice something I didn’t notice before.
I’m on the plane, getting ready to take off from Los Angeles. I’m exhausted. Wrung out. Normally when I come here I’m energized. On top of the world. I could almost float home. But not this time. This time I sink into my seat, just kind of wishing I was already home.
I’m feeling like I failed myself.
It’s summer, and I’m holed up in a Sunday School room at the Essex Congregational Church. This room has a piano, and the church has graciously allowed me to hang out in there to write songs. It gives me a place to go so I don’t disturb my family so much. (Remember the time before electronic instruments and headphones?) And changing my location tells me that it’s time to get down to work.
And write I do. All kinds of songs. I still have a folder with the hand-written lyric sheets.
I had my hair cut the other day, and asked my stylist if he has a favorite Christmas tradition. Jay said, “Oh yes. Every year my family gives each other gorgeous cards. And then we use them to make ornaments. Some are mostly cut around the card design. Others are cut so they are hardly recognizable, and a really creative ornament made out of them. We have a special tree to hang these ornaments on, and keep saving them from year to year. Every year this tree grows more beautiful with new ones being added.”
I can just picture it, can’t you?
The back garden’s at a stopping point. It’s cleared of the big stuff, weeds have grown back over most of the bare soil, it’s been raining a lot here in Connecticut, and it’s getting colder out. And, because I’m not sure what I want to do with it, I’m going to let it sit over the winter while I mull over my options for next year.
In my last post, I told you that I dug out a bush that was crowding another. So the stronger bush could thrive. What I didn’t tell you want just how much work it was to get that thing out of there.
I’m back in the garden again. Cleaning out for the third day. Thought I’ve lugged at least 4 wheelbarrows full of weeds (piled so high they keep falling off on the way to the dumping pile), it looks like I’ve scarcely made a dent. Though there is that big empty space, in which I found buried treasure yesterday. A peppermint stick day lily, hydrangea, and Shasta daisies. All standing tall once I uncovered them……for one whole day.
I’ve been slowly reclaiming garden beds that have been (ahem) a bit neglected. Last year I did a huge overhaul of the one between my house and the patio. But it was a bit hard to tell because tons of weeds had grown and hidden many of the plants.
Have you ever said something, and even as it came out of your mouth you realized, “That wasn’t what I meant?” Or worse, what if you posted it online? And can’t take it back?
Yeah…that.
Have you ever tried to figure out how to do something you’ve never done before? Ever had to use something you have as a tool because you didn’t have the exact tool you needed?
I found myself in exactly that situation the other day.
