Thoughts of stress (all those I have to), anger (that person drives like a grandpa!) or resentment (grrr) are like barren soil, with the proverbial heap of muck right next to it. Who would want to dwell in such a place? Better to turn the TV on, dive into a book or do grocery shopping. To finally get away. To rest.
At that point I always imagine that I turned into a little gardener and I start taking care of that garden.
I chose what topics, memories or thoughts I engage with. I pay attention to the way how I engage with them. I notice how they make me feel. Whom I let into my garden. What I consciously plant there. I keep my garden in mind while taking any action. Making another person a little happier is like planting a row of fragrant flowers. Bless the trees, rocks and clouds – puff, suddenly a small lake with reeds appeared in the garden of my mind.
Counting my blessings (grateful for the sun on my face after days; grateful to have such beautiful people around me; grateful for finally appreciating the taste of coffee without milk and that I am eating my third carrot today instead of chocolate) is like having a hammock, birds singing, cherries blossoming and ripe strawberries in my garden every day.
It does make sense that we celebrate Mothers’ Day in the middle of May, the month of flowers, love and Mother Earth; as if one could exist without another. Mother’s embrace is like no other. We would not be here without it. Strong roots make gardens bear new life.
And do you know what else happens in beautiful gardens? The muses like to visit.
(Written while in my winter garden where spring is in the air.)