Digging for Hope

Colors wink at me today where monster weeds and tangles of roots drowned my spirit just over a month ago. My garden brings me hope for a fresh start.  A couple of years ago I was climbing out of post-chemotherapy fatigue when the snow disappeared. This year our snow hung on well into May— ramping up our excitement to celebrate spring. I can count on the garden to give me the boost I need after low times. It’s a special gift to my spirit.

Clearing flower beds of choking weeds and roots felt personal for me. Uprooting weeds satisfies something primal in me. I love liberating the garden from invaders. Do I sense an urge to clear paper piles? Oops, this might be contagious…

We relished trips to garden centers. The pungent smell of moist earth greeted us. Our senses swam with all the textures and colors; fuscia, blazing red, indigo, happy yellow, and stark white. Let’s see, which ones did well last year in the shade?  Sun? and which perennial plants made it through our hard winter?

Digging in the dirt calmed my monkey mind. Rich, freshly composted soil under my fingernails signaled my connection to the earth. Clean black soil seemed to restore a peace in my soul. ..

Time in my garden has become an active meditation for me, accompanied only by birds’ songs. Silence is healing. My cancer-prevention medication brings on drenching sweats—on non-humid days. Now, with high humidity, dripping sweat and sore muscles, my body protests. The work is a stretch, but it  feels good, because I know beauty and joy will follow. Finally in mid July, dozens of shades of green set off the parade of color in our 6 gardens. I’m outdoors first thing in the morning and last thing at night, drinking in the freshness and smells of summer. Fireflies sparkle and surprise at days’ end.

Weeding and coaxing my garden back to life is an annual ritual I trust. It’s even more meaningful now that the cancer is completely gone. Not long ago, I ripped open a new seed packet and retrieved just one seed.  Carefully tucking it just below the surface of the soil, I covered it with a bit more soil and watched and watered it in my sunny window garden—planting for the future. It’s amazing, really, that new life will spring from that.  A few weeks ago, I planted the whole tiny pot in my garden, and it’s already growing fast.  Now the tiny plant is ready for “real life” outdoors. New beauty, new hope. Another miracle, just like each new year in my blessed life. Thank you, God!

Where do you find hope? I’d love to hear about it!

Thanks for stopping by!

Sandi