Tag Archives: iPhone photos

Lessons from the Garden

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Pace yourself

“My garden is my favorite teacher.” {quoting myself}

The front garden is starting to explode.  First the yarrow, verbena and iris and now the mallow, thyme and roses.  The late spring weather is wonderful.  I have to wear a sweater for my morning walks; and holding a cup of coffee to warm my hands is just perfect.  Though I prefer to tend a little bit every day, life has been full and the weeds have been ignored, so Monday will be a weeding day.   {for my desk too…}  I’ve been in listening mode, as the garden has been whispering lessons again.

Last week, the hydrangeas encouraged me to pace myself as I stopped for a walk and and a cup of coffee, while immersed in deadlines.  The blue is my favorite.  I must remember favorites.

Spilling over

Spilling Over

The yarrow reminded me that sometimes it’s okay to spill over.  Ideas spill outside of boxes and borders as I move and activate the next thing.  And my heart spills over onto pages as I get to the truth.

Change your perspective

Change Your Perspective

The iris by the mailbox smell like grape kool-aid and are amazing to view from all angles.  They remind me that fresh insight comes if I remain willing to change my perspective.

Shine.

Shine

This rose changes color as it unfolds.  In the sunlight is translucent and shimmery.  Sometimes shining is in order.

Wait for the right time

Wait for the right time

For about 3 minutes at dusk, the iris by the sidewalk are luminous.  The season is short and timing is everything.  The iris remind me both to wait and be present.

On dreams and door knobs

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Door knob downtown Apalachicola, FL

“Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.”

Emily Dickinson

“Open the door.”

In the smudgy first seconds of the day, where eyes are still closed and dreams are still open, I heard my husband say, “Open the door.”

This is odd because I live in home where so often doors are opened for me. R is a Southern gentleman through and through, including soft-spoken, “Yes Ma’ms” and “No Sirs” and opening doors for women.  He doesn’t believe I’m helpless; it’s his way of showing respect.  The truth is between R and the four young men Brillants, The Girl and I rarely ever touch a door knob.

Purple door downtown Apalachicola, FL

A door knob.  The place of ACTIVATION. 

It has become my EXPECTATION that doors will open for me.

This action {or lack of action} seeps into my spiritual expectations.  When I look at my life and how PATH has opened and closed, I realize that I have in many ways stopped opening my own doors.  This aligns beautifully with the spiritual practice of WAITING.

“Wait on the Spirit to lead.”

“Trust God.”

“Open your hand.”

“Let go of ego.”

But I wonder.  When am I supposed {if ever} to grab a hold of a door knob and turn it.

To swing a door wide open and Enter In.

1000 Gifts & turn around time

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“Lament is a cry of belief in a good God, a God who has His ear to our hearts, a God who transfigures the ugly into beauty. Complaint is the bitter howl of unbelief in any benevolent God in this moment, a distrust in the love-beat of the Father’s heart.”

Ann Voskamp

Yesterday was a horrible, melt-down kind of day.  R tried to find me and missed time after time.  My judgments about safety & place for story, like a pair of sunglasses worn inside the house, were my only filters, leaving me with a dark view.     In addition, my sensory filters were gone and I was raw; noises were too loud and lights were too bright.  Clutter and projects were completely overwhelming and I chose independence over trying to be understood.  I cried all day and into the evening when a migraine finally put me out of my misery and I retreated to bed.

Ironically, I was supposed to be counting happiness moments.

I started with a cute face coffee mug.

Then I found a letter from a friend that had gotten lost in the Christmas mail bin.

That’s as far as I got, after that it was all tears.  Hence the crumpled handkerchief.


A wise friend told me years ago that maturity isn’t a life void of challenge and loss of perspective; maturity is simply having a good turn-around-time in your heart and mind.  My turn around time is getting better.  It used to be about 20 years, now I’m in the 24 hour to 2 week range.

Yesterday was a mess; today is rainy and quiet with a cup of tea and a lot of writing.

I’m collecting 1000 gifts in hopes that the daily practice of a paradigm shift towards joy and gratitude will guard my heart and improve my turn-around-time.   {If you’re on Instagram, check #1kGiftsDare_wildthyme or go HERE and see the first 31 gifts.}

~betsy