Just as you tend your garden with care and attention—turning and enriching the soil, pulling the weeds, pruning back deadwood—so, too, must you tend your inner garden, turning and enriching the soil of your soul, pulling the weeds of doubt and fear, pruning back the deadwood of old habits and beliefs that no longer serve you.
Soil that is depleted and lacking in nutrients cannot support the growth of the plants that are placed in it; your soul is the same. You must feed it, give it the elements that will make it a fertile place to grow a life and fulfill your purpose.
Do you know that you are blessed? Of course you do. You see it clearly when you are able to quiet the fear and anxiety. Make the time to go within…and receive guidance. Check in with your body. Return to awareness.
You have been given the gift of time. Receive it. Appreciate it. Let it fill you and bear fruit. It will, if you allow it.
~pathwriter’s guidance journal
Photo by Lisa Tate
One look at this photo by my friend Lisa, and I was catapulted back through time, years flying by like so many roadside fenceposts. I landed decades in the past at my Granny Rogers’ house at the edge of a small North Carolina town named Creedmoor. The property to the south side of the house sloped down towards a wooded area, and at the bottom of the slope was an old woodshed. Continue reading
Last Saturday, I dug up a climbing rose that I’d lovingly nurtured for nearly five years and threw it away. It had a serious disease, one that could spread to other rosebushes, so it wasn’t salvageable.
After removing the rose, I began to dig a hole a couple of feet away for another plant. Almost immediately, I hit something hard with my shovel—not an uncommon occurrence in my garden’s rocky soil. I discovered, however, that it wasn’t a rock I’d hit, but a brick, buried under at least eight inches of soil. I pulled the brick out of the ground and put my shovel in again—clunk! Another brick. And another. And another. By the time I called it a day, I’d dug up around twenty-five bricks, and I couldn’t stop smiling. Continue reading
Photo by Lisa Tate
lifting their faces
to gargle raindrops
roots digging their toes in
to nestle and soak
in earth now pliable
and open to receive
brown turning green
the garden sighs
my north carolina garden in spring
From my mid-teens throughout much of my adult life, the thing that got me up in the mornings and lulled me to sleep at night was dance. Whether performing, choreographing, teaching, or writing about it—I ate, breathed, and slept dance. Then I began to garden. Continue reading
I read Pico Iyer’s article about the joy of quiet a few days ago, nodding my head and murmuring agreement throughout. I’ve increasingly been craving “quiet” in the past year, especially in the last two or three months, and I’ve been doing whatever I can to achieve it.
It’s rare that I turn on the television now. I’ve never been an “anti-television” person; I enjoyed a lot of what was on TV when I was younger. However, much of what’s on television now is just silly or completely outrageous, and the news shows all seem to focus on negativity, so it’s much easier for me to “just say no” these days. Continue reading
When one thing dies all things
die together, and must live again
in a different way,
when one thing
is missing everything is missing,
and must be found again
in a new whole…
~ excerpt from What I Must Tell Myself by David Whyte
I suffered a loss this weekend, a loss that, to some, might not seem terribly important or tragic, but it hit me hard just the same, and I am grieving.