Byrds in the Garden

Over the last couple of days intense gratitude has washed over me and filled my brain with clichés. Even as I am writing this, I have to hit delete repeatedly because my fingers keep clicking out language that usually makes me roll my eyes. How do people express these feelings without using sun-shiney words that make people want to gag? Here is my attempt:

Plants are sprouting in my cedar boxes. There is something satisfying about perfect and round, little green bits peeking up through the soil. Knowing that by putting a seed in the ground, coaxing it out with water and sunlight, I can reap fragrant foliage or ripened fruit when it has reached maturity. It is a simple principle: at the right time, with the right care, good things come when you nurture them.

Life is falling back into place and serenity is a welcome side effect. Recognizing my role in my family, friendships, neighborhood, and church organization has reminded me that I am not, nor do I want to be, an individually functioning unit. I am connected to beating hearts and that interaction yields happiness. Having socially isolated myself for a long time it is wonderful to open my arms again and hear that steady beat when I get close.

I am indebted to my friends and family and counselors for their unwavering support through all of my emotional, spiritual and physical difficulties. They haven’t flinched or become frustrated and have been patient with my cautious pace (one where I drag my feet or dig in my stilettos) and my over-thinking brain that sends me in intellectual circles without letting me come to any conclusions.

Stepping down off the fence, despite trepidation about some unanswered questions, is inciting growth. I am making informed choices and find happiness in the results. This is a huge step for me. Looking forward, instead of craning my neck to keep an eye on an unfinished past, has guided my feet down this untended path, even though I might have selected the wrong shoes for the walk.

As I find delight in gardening and social interactions, this Byrds song streams through my brain. I think they might have stolen the lyrics from some uncopyrighted material (possibly some ecclesitical/preacherly person?). I think I am going to leave out some of the more repetitive lyrics but it goes something like:

To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.
A time to be born a time to die, a time to plant a time to reap,
A time to kill a time to heal, a time to weep.

A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, time to gather stones together

A time a war, a time of peace
A time of love, a time of hate
A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time a time to love, a time to hate

A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late.