Therapy

I bought flowers yesterday.  Flowers to me, are synonymous with therapy.  There is just something about walking into a greenhouse filled with lush, vibrant blooms.  I will drop in at various greenhouses throughout the spring and early summer, but I am partial to one....spacious aisles, well cared for blooms, and  a covered santuary so I can peruse no matter what the weather.  Stepping into the wonderland of colors is calming, delightful... inviting.  Most of the time.  It was another difficult afternoon for me yesterday, which made the process of selecting flowers a more stressful task.  But I stuck with it, and managed to purchase most of what I will need to transform the areas around my house into their own havens of loveliness.

In the evening, my spirit had lifted and the process of beginning to plant, became a restful, therapeutic experience.  Placing fresh dirt into containers, trying to remember which flowers I bought for where, :) and then plunging them into the cool, damp earth...ahh...this so refreshed tired places in me.

The kinship of flowers and therapy seems evident to my personal experience.  Both bear a price tag, seemingly steep at the start, but with future benefits.  It's not all clear in the greenhouse, what my creations will look like...yet I know that within a month, my planting will reap gorgeous arrays of colour.  Often when I walk into the office of my therapist, my vision of the future of whatever my struggle is, seems rather opaque.  But in time, clarity becomes a friend, and the calming words of wisdom echoing in my mind, brings colour and new vibrancy to my life.

In the fresh air of this evening, I tirelessly relished the intricacies, textures and gracefulness of my flowers, admiring some of my finished product, giving others a welcome drink after another sun-filled summer-like day. Tomorrow therapy will beckon me once again.  I will eagerly answer the call.

 

The Extreme Gardener

My son has taken up gardening...in small spaces, as the books outline.  He started talking about this in the winter and had listed on his Christmas list...pots for a deck garden and a gift card to a greenhouse. Recently he had a conversation and borrowed some books from an avid gardener friend of ours.  He was hooked.  Then came the detailed planning.

He had already decided that a deck garden was too small, and started envisioning a larger area.   His suggestion of cutting down our gorgous Norway Maple tree to allow for more sunlight in our backyard, was VERY quickly nixed by my husband and I.

"NO".

But, we said we would happily allow him to dig up a small area near our deck, which would be gifted with the most sun possible.  He was game.  And so began his meticulous task of preparing the soil.  He chose to have two plots, side by side, but prepared with varied methods and materials.  In essence his purpose was to experiment with the pattern of growth in each plot.  

On Mother's Day, he hightailed it out to a store for the lumber, and then continued on to a greenhouse for his soil concoctions and vegetable seeds.  I've watched him involve himself in projects before....focused, intent, intense.  He is amazing to watch.  I must say, that I was very thankful that part of this project was done on Mother's Day, because it gave me an excuse not to offer my aid.  My Compost Unit had once occupied the space in which the garden plot to the left is now stationed.  What that meant, was ...you guessed it....the unit, AND the compost had to be moved.  Have you ever moved a half full compost unit?  Neither have I!!!!!  But my son and husband did, and let's just say that the aroma from this unit cannot be described as therapy.  But they did it...one shovel full at a time, transferred to the other end of the yard. (My husband was a trooper!)

Our deck was transformed into a woodworking shop, as my son measured, sawed, and began to build the fenced frame.  My husband had to practically drag him into the house to make a Mother's Day card for me, and assist with meal preparation.  As soon as the dishes were done, he was back to work, and stayed there until dark.  Did I mentioned that he was focused, intent...intense??

Last night he got the itch at 8:40 in the evening, to plant the seeds.  It was dark, cold, windy and raining.  But this was not a deterrent for him.  And of course he opted not to wear gloves, because they're just to cumbersome when handling seeds.  I was sure he  wouldn't last long, but at 10:25, when my husband and I went to bed, he was still planting!!!  (We have a sensored light on our deck, which enabled him to work, but every few minutes, when the light shut off, he would have to come up on to the deck and wave at the light, and then return to planting)  I was almost asleep when I heard him in the washroom around 10:45!

The Extreme Gardener...that's my best title for him.  Of course there are others...crazy, insane(that's my husband's)...you pick yours, but I like Extreme.  And it's got me thinking...about the gardening of our souls, and whether anyone would place such a title on you or I?

Are we extreme when it comes to preparing our hearts for growth?  Do you seek hard after wisdom, read your "manual" for growing?  Am I focused, intent...intense, about the work that needs to be done in me?  And what about the times when we come across an area that requires some upheaval, with just a bit...or maybe a lot of "smell" to it?  Are we willing to work at it, one shovel full at a time, to allow for fresh growth?  Will I do whatever it takes for the soil of my soul to welcome seeds for growth...regardless of having to work in the dark, or the rain, or with the wind swirling around me.  Some challenging questions for all of us.  What will your answer be to the question: 

Will I be an Extreme Gardener?