I have tried (and failed miserably) many times to get back into the groove of writing on here. The cringe-worthiness of the drafts that piled up was mostly due to the overwhelming need I felt to justify, explain, re-visit and hash out my absence from writing in the last few months. I mean, it’s pretty lame when something just disappears and reappears and demands your attention and time again with little to no explanation. If a person in my life pulled that kind of stunt, I’d be demanding answers.
The more I thought about it, the more drafts piled up (almost ALL “untitled” which made sorting through them a pain) and the less likely I was to get back into a habit of this, or *gasp* make it more of a habit. So here I am. Writing a post with an intent to click the publish button and you are probably wondering what in the world I’m trying to get at here.
All the above is a glaring example of exactly what I have been finding out about myself in the past few months:
I like to please.
I like people around me to be happy.
Failure or the possibility of failure sets me backtracking like no other.
I am more likely to view something as a failure or a mistake than everyone else around me.
Surely that sometime in the past 31 years I’ve been aware of those little facts, but I didn’t like to admit how much control they exerted on me and how I interact with the world. At the risk of getting all psychobabble up in here, it’s suffice to say that at the ripe old age of 31 I finally decided to start working on letting that mess go.
So I supposed that’s what I’ve been up to. It’s super hard to do apparently. However, it’s also super necessary. Beating myself up over the type of person/wife/mother/friend/writer I was, wasn’t making me any better at it; In fact, it was making me miserable and miserable me sloshing around with a cup of decaf is shockingly not the best version to hang out with.
I’ve been starting with little things, like my plants. Every year I purchase flowers and every year, by this time of the summer, they’re deader than a door nail. I would joke about how we may as well just kill them now and be done with it as we loaded them into the car. I would plan for Better Homes and Gardens and usually ended up with the clearance section of Walmart at the end of the season. I made the decision that because I’m not the greenest of thumbs they were going to be dead and it became a self fulfilling prophecy. At the slightest sign of wilt I would throw in the towel and chalk it up to my lack of horticultural prowess.
I’m happy to report that they are all quite alive thankyouverymuch. It hasn’t been painful, I just had to manage my expectations. For example, it is very true that I don’t have more than a basic knowledge of plants and a limited amount of time to take care of them. So I read labels and instead of picking the flowers of my dreams, I picked the ones I was actually capable of caring for…you know..the ones that won’t die if
I’m too lazy to water them I forget to water them. I also took a hard look at where I put them. Apparently my yard is the sun. Little to no shade. So I took that into consideration. (RIP shade loving flowers) Apparently, my limit is four potted plants, two hanging baskets and a cheerful three pot grouping of herbs I use on the regular.
None of them look picture perfect, but none of them is dead either and I am ok with it for once. Sometimes I let nature take care of the watering for me. They are still blooming and honestly no one driving past my house at 25-50 mph (depending on their interpretation of the speed limit and stop sign in front of my house) is going to see a few brown leaves. They will see the blooms. If they look closely enough to criticize I can take their advice or leave it. Suggestions with actual real world advice are welcome. Random insults probably say more about them than my fledgling gardening attempts.
It’s the same attitude I need to apply on here (and let’s face it, everywhere else in life). It may even be something you find yourself doing. I’m trying to let myself enjoy the process and take the time out I need to learn some new skills rather than beat myself up because I’m inexperienced. I’m worrying less about the dead leaves type of posts and focusing on the blooms, whatever they may be. I’m ok with the fact that I’m not everyone else may not appreciate my taste; if I’m content and happy with my efforts, that is enough.
So with all those corny gardening metaphors, I’m back. Thanks for reading and I hope we can continue to “grow” together.
Ok, the last one may have been too much, but it was too punny to resist.