I do so because I think it is important to be reflective in and about our lives (is that stating the obvious?) and when one of us has an “ah ha!” moment as Oprah calls it, I think it is meant to be shared.
So here it is: When you hit a road block or have a setback that keeps you from getting where you need to go, give yourself a little credit. Even in your darkest moment, you are strong. Even when you think you cannot keep going, somehow you can. You do it all the time.
I don’t say this because I am wise or excessively optimistic (or going through a terrible depression). I say it because the signs of your resilience and your intention to keep going are usually very subtle, but they are there. That, my friends, is what matters.
Here’s what got me thinking this way today. It was a gorgeous, unseasonably warm Fall day here in the Northeast and, in spite of having plenty of dissertation proposal writing yet to do, I knew that I had to get outside for a while. I decided to tackle the vegetable garden, cleaning up the dead plants and weeding the soil in preparation for next year’s planting season.
Usually, my husband and I wait until Spring to do this, even though it could be better for the soil to be tilled and fertilized before the snows of Winter hit. Still, it has never made it to the top of my “To Do” list this early, so I was really in the moment as I headed down the hill with my rake and bucket.
As I pulled up the dead plant remnants, I found more than a few tomatoes that were worth picking. I pulled out the wooden stakes and metal cages, making my way across our fenced-in garden, and found one, then another, and then yet another rather good-sized cucumber, just waiting to be picked.
The bucket started to fill. I kept pulling weeds, raking, thinking that our little garden -- which yielded some 30 or 40 jars of pickles, green tomatoes and salsa -- had been a decent project even if the corn I planted never made it to full size.
Then it hit me. What I was doing. Here it was, nearly the middle of October, and I was thinking of “next year.” That’s next year as in, next year, we’ll plant the corn in tight rows and plant more of it. Next year, maybe we’ll plant the pickling cukes in the front of the garden so they can climb the fence. Next year, we’ll be ready to get going when the danger of frost has passed, and our soil will be refreshed and waiting for the good seed.
It isn’t that I’m taking for granted I’ll be here next year. It’s that I expect it, and no matter what, there is a strength in embracing the unknown future. So the next time you are thinking of where to go on vacation next summer, or what to do to celebrate your birthday, or how to spend your upcoming weekend, take a moment and savor the thoughts. Live in the now, but expect the good that is yet to be.
Copyright 2011 By Marianne V. Heffernan
No comments:
Post a Comment