One Balanced Life

Five years ago I had a beautiful garden. In addition to my day job I working part-time in an amazing garden center to support my habit (of buying every living thing that struck my fancy). In the evening, I would walk out of the house to pick supplies for dinner - beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and loads of herbs to add to the feast. I would make herbed cheeses and butters to take with to share with friends. I spent the end of season making pesto and sauces, and I was absorbed enough to take pictures to brag about my garden’s beauty and abundance…and then I went and got pregnant. I switched my focus to growing babies and caring for them. Slowly the garden fell in an almost comical state of disrepair. In fact some neighbor who will remain nameless reported us to the city for our unsightly “behind the garage garden” - my once beloved veggie garden was now a towering mess of weeds. And one day while nursing, I heard a crash – one of retaining walls (yes a tiered garden) collapsed. In all seriousness, I didn’t care that much. My attention was focused elsewhere and pretty much pretended we didn’t have a yard. And since my husband would rather be doing anything but yard or house work (whole other story where we’ve seriously debated switching to a downtown loft lifestyle) it was in a sad state.

But I’ve reconnected with my passion (and officially we’re not moving) for gardening. The boys are old enough to play in the dirt without me worrying about whether they’ll eat it. So we’ve been able to spend a lot of time out there. And while I lose myself in the digging I do find myself becoming obsessive about what I NEED to get done. The thoughts don’t stop – moving this perennial, digging up more grass, how many bags of mulch to buy, etc. I find myself focusing on the garden I want to have.

And then tonight, after tucking the kids in, I sat on the patio, and slowed down. I lost myself in the moment and gazing at the yard. I remembered to see the beauty in it’s present state not what it could become. The rose bush I planted for the baby we lost has come back in spite of complete neglect. The bleeding hearts and all of the native plants I managed to find time to drop in are thriving. Even the lilac someone gave us, which was plopped in the “berm” (a huge pile of dirt left over from various house projects – egress windows and patio) looks beautiful. I’m sure people (my sister) think it looks a mess…the crumbling wall and pile of dirt (I can’t move the dirt now that the boys have discovered - a massive dirt and sand pile is so much better than a contained box.) I prefer to think of it as urban cottage garden or better yet a farm in the middle of the city.

Tonight all of it is a sweet metaphor for life - to love where we are now. To slow down and appreciate our beauty and what we have accomplished. I’ll get the garden I want it just isn’t going to happen tonight or this weekend and I have more important things to do...like sitting here enjoying a glass of wine and relishing in its imperfections.

Now what to do about our dead grass? I do not enjoy mowing. Too ambitious to plant the whole yard?

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