taking a walk throughout the garden
I took a walk throughout my [metaphorical] garden of life with a handful of seeds emitting hope — a hope to find true love, a hope to travel in the near future, a hope to live as a snowbird…
and the mere thought of planting, let alone caring, for any of them instantly grew me exhausted.
Though I’m deeply grateful that I have more direction in my life than ever by understanding what I need and want from life, most of my energy over the past couple of years or so has been narrowed into healing and understanding
—from the insidiousness of borderline personality disorder, along with other burdens I carry that I don’t often write about publicly.
Even so, I felt ashamed; Have I become irredeemably lethargic?, I thought.
Then the wind caressed my weary skin, and a wave of enthusiasm came over me as a warm blanket amidst a cold winter evening —
Perhaps,
now isn’t my time to be planting seeds at all…but instead a moment to simply and easefully nourish my soil —
a moment for ease and lightness, slowness and stillness,
a moment to integrate admirable habits and ways of being/perceiving in alignment to the flowers I wish to grow, truthfully, naturally, and without the exhaustion of expectation.
I’ve gently tucked away my seeds of hope and desire, enlightened to know that now isn’t their time to be taken care of, but instead, my own.
