Garden Thoughts

Some of my earliest memories are playing in the dirt. Whether it was making friends with the worms in my backyard or searching for fairies in my mamo's backyard, the earth was a wonderous place to get lost.

Once I got older, connecting with nature became more physically challenging with kayaking, hiking, biking, etc. Ataxia has made those a not so safe nor enjoyable experience for me. I've been weeding a bunch in the past month or so, and I've realized the earth is healing for me in two ways:

There's some serious inner child work there that is effortless for me. And, I'll tell you, "If it's free, it's for me!" (Thanks, Kristy, for introducing me to that philosophy and saying) Like, I kid you not: I did serious EMDR work for a little over a year, and this hits the same for me. I don't have to work to integrate with little M; we're just chilling TOGETHER sliding roots through our fingers and relocating wormy friends. So, that's awesome.

Sitting and digging in the earth is my new connection/grounding practice. It ain't pretty getting to my spot, getting down or up, or scooting around, and I'm a-okay with that! I had been carrying around shame that I wasn't interacting with nature the way my able body could. Silly, Michelle. Expectations: tricky little buggers.

Okay, so, as I was weeding this morning in between showers, I really let my heart run wild on ruminating over how much I love roots. Metaphorically. Physically. Spiritually. Emotionally.

Like, give me a good, juicy root, and my heart sings. The surface is gorgeous, and even if it isn't, at least it makes sense when you get to the root, and I get to appreciate some part of it. I am most interested in the roots of all my relationships.

I want to get dirty with myself and people I love. What makes us tick? What gives us life? What are we connected to? What are feeding off of?

Being present in that exploration is fascinating to me. What you think is the root could just be a protective encasing, and the real root is a fragile fiber that is strong and will hold on for dear life. Gahhhhh... I can't get enough.

And that got me thinking:

I wonder if this is why being with my authors is so life-giving? Monday - Friday for seventeen years (I didn't start teaching Creative Writing Magnet until my third year teaching), young people have shared parts of their hearts with me. Like, I have the honor of bearing witness of little souls being creative, courageous, and experimental. Damn.

Same side, different coin. Or same coin, something like that... I have an extremely high expectation of the people in my life: you better trust me with your soul, or you can keep it moving! If half-cooked humans can trust me and be brave and think critically, that's the bare minimum for adults in my life. (By the way, I struck the lottery in this department - literally while writing this, two of my besties texted about how we're each other's "forever people." Whole separate post) But, I think this may be one of my issues with romantic partners. I wanna go deep. Quick! But, most folks don't trust me to touch their roots.

And, if I can't touch yours, you sure as hell can't touch mine. Guess I'll talk to Sally about that :)

Well, that's pretty much it. If I like it, I wanna get to that tap root. I like going deep and having to move with purpose, grace, and gentleness. And, being mindful and grateful in the process. What a blessing to see what most don't get the chance to.

Pretty cool.

Enjoy a few of my garden beauties from this morning...