A Week in the Garden

A few weeks ago I saw a FB post from my friend and writing mentor Nerissa.  She was reminding us of her week long writing retreat called, “Writing it up in The Garden”, in her new space, “Little Blue”.  Without thinking too hard, over analyzing the pros and cons, or convincing myself that I had too many things on my plate, I sent her an email saying “Sign me up!”  I was so proud of giving myself the space and time for all of the writing that I needed and wanted to do this summer.  I impressed myself with my spontaneity, and ability to see exactly what I needed.  With joyful outlook I leapt into summer. 

     Before I knew it the reality of my crazy life became apparent.  My daughter announced a performance that could not be missed (mid-week, 2.5 hours away, ending at 10:30 pm), I realized that I had signed my son and I up for a horse show that was on Thursday or that week, not Saturday as I had originally thought.  My peaceful week of writing had just been hijacked.  Once again I would be juggling too many commitments with too little time and doing all of them poorly.  Anxiety, my very good friend on these occasions, was working hard to convince me that I would drop balls and disappoint people.  She was also working hard to remind me of all of the people who were thinking to themselves, “Sarah is crazy, she always takes on too much and then doesn’t do any one thing well.”  By Saturday I was a hot mess, even a 20 minute mediation didn’t do the trick to calm my nerves.  Sunday night brought the onset of insomnia, laying in bed until 1:00 in the morning hoping for sleep to come.  I just kept pushing through using a mantra I created few years back, “I get to do all of these amazing things, I get to be tired and a little frazzled, I get to suck the marrow out of life.  I also spoke my truth.  I said out loud to my husband that I was sleeping poorly, I wrote an email to a friend telling her that I was feeling anxious, I went to therapy and had a good cry, and I kept saying my mantra. 

     The week in the Garden began.  I wrote anything and everything that was came to me, and I gave myself permission not to be everywhere at once.  When I was writing I would be writing.  When I was riding my horse, I was thinking only of him, when I was with my husband I was allowing the joy to permeate my body.  So here I am on the Friday of one of the busiest weeks of my summer.  I have written, ridden, gone to therapy, driven 4 hours to see a play, had dinner with my mother, gone to a horse show with my son, slept far less than usual, and written some more.  I tended to my flowers, I gave myself credit for doing and being rather than noticing the places I was falling short, and things grew.  Three blogs post and a children’s book got written, I jumped my horse and loved it, I got to see my amazing daughter shine her light bright, and I got to shepherd my son through nerves and disappointment when he and his horse had an off day.  I sit here on Friday feeling full of possibility.  I could have curled up in a ball and put everything down but I didn’t.  I lived into each thing, one at a time and saw it’s beauty.  I tended to myself and the flowers grew, now onto the weeding and pruning.