gardening my mind

my counselor and i rooted out a dying shrub in the landscaped garden of my mind. 

it left a hole larger than i was expecting. 

you see, this shrub didn't look like it was dying. in fact, from one angle the part that was still thriving was growing wild, reaching for new ways to take purchase. it was necessary to remove it because keeping it meant the shrub could potentially choke out other plants or worse, spread disease. 

but now i have a hole larger than i was expecting and i don't know what to do with it. when i scan over the landscape, i no longer feel continuity or ubiquity. now my mind is caught on the substantial void—and the ways it must be filled. 

this poses questions as i am certain you'd agree. what do i fill it with? is my counselor also a gardener, and can help me determine what is best suited to plant there? will the soil first need tending as i emulsify nutrients for optimal growth? if so, what does that look like? or perhaps we can just pick a hardier species of plant, one that is apt to the overall scheme? plant it, water it, and move on. 

and then there is the final option that a fellow gardener of the mind suggested. what if i for now it is enough to fill the hole with more dirt, tend it by plucking weeds that hope to sprout, and allow space for a while? 

a notable thought

 this morning, a life was saved.

i was looking ahead in my morning walk, glanced down for a moment, and was able to save a pill bug's life by shortening my step a fraction. 

the pill bug continued on its way, unaware anything remarkable had happened. 

this brought to mind that sometimes the tiny things bring great happiness to someone else — and quiet satisfaction to ourselves. 

somewhere today, a child will discover a ladybug. someone is going to pull the first tomato from a backyard garden they have been checking each morning. someone who has been trying for weeks will finally make the connection that lets them tie a shoe. someone will catch the largest fish ever and they won't have to exaggerate the experience. ...there is also someone who will find peace withing by setting a boundary. 

none of these things are newsworthy. yet each moment is notable. together, they keep the world moving forward.

nothing big. 

just things we notice when we pull our eyes from our path ahead for a moment and shorten our step a fraction. 

golden light of gratitude

 thinking about gratitude today...

i have spent so much time moving from one thing to the next asking 'why' and 'how' and 'when.'

somehow i forgot to the time to notice what 'is.'

'is' doesn't ask anything. it doesn't solve anything. it simply acknowledges what has already been settled. resolute. — i feel that is where gratitude presides.

there is a time in the morning where the light surrounding us transitions from a cool, murky blue to warm and golden. — that is what gratitude does. 

it takes the focus from seeing only what the day may bring, to showing what is. 

gratitude doesn't pain the world in gold. it is revealing the small details that were already there and may have been missed due to obscurity by the grade of light. 

map and compass

 i lost the map i once navigated life by. 

granted, i had created the map from landmarks and coordinates that were not quality foundational reference points. after all, how can a cartographer have an accurate representation when they are basing their map on the time of lowest elevation as a waymark?

somehow this map has served me well enough that now that it is gone, i am the one feeling misplaced. standing in an open meadow, not certain which direction will give me cover from the elements and unsure which direction leads to home.

i would love for someone to let me use their map, yet i know i wouldn't fully trust its markings and would struggle reading the key. 

must i begin anew?
constructing an atlas from old truths revealed in clarity, incorporating trusted pieces of others' maps,  and adding new wayposts as i navigate through new terrain?
...or is it enough to journey in wanderlust exploring each moment. guided by some well known landmarks and trusting my compass will help me orient? 

i wonder if that is how all maps are made after-all. 

pooled thoughts

 my mind is swimming in pooled thoughts. everything feels fluid and difficult to hold. 

sure, there are thoughts that cling to my skin like a droplet of water, but they are miniscule and difficult to expand into something more. the conclusion i have come to as i am in this state; i will allow the thoughts to ebb and flow as i lay back and tread the waters of my mind. 

hoping the current will lead me somewhere more solidified. 

intangible weight

why is it that we add weight to things that are not tangible? 
i said, "things" which made me realize that perhaps we must add weight to nouns. ...and in that sense a thought, idea, event, or emotion that becomes so heavy, it becomes a noun because it is easier to grasp—yet, harder to hold. 
really though, why is it that the intangible, the unsubstantial, the incorporeal are often the heaviest things we could carry? 

and why does it matter? 

...matter. 

meaning equals matter. 

and matter adds weight. 

what divine design we live in. 

spring preparations

​the last week of february and it is warm enough for my dog and i to sit on the back porch. the sun is bright, but the surrounding crisp air creates a barrier to the sun’s warmth. the birds are busy announcing their plans as they engage in their work to prepare for the upcoming spring soirée. and dottie and i? we are here for the spectacle and glad that we don’t have to participate in the work.