Today held great promise when I jumped out of bed around 5 am. I waited for daylight, so that I could work in my garden and get some things done outside. When it was light enough to get a move on, I sprang into action with my loppers and basket to work on my blackberry bushes. They’re spent for the season, but still working hard to produce a few last plump and ripe berries.

The western sky bore a dark backdrop with the sunrise creating a really cool looking sky. I went to work fast cutting old branches to make way for next year’s foliage. The raindrops were slow at first but came on quick. And I hastily retreated inside to grab an umbrella and basket.  By then it was pouring, but I managed to snip about a dozen tomatoes.

Of course I needed to scramble some eggs and cut up a fresh tomato slice for breakfast. And showing my age, I posted a couple of pictures on Facebook. Which is the reason for my blog today.

I started thinking about my Mary Poppins-ish posts of every day ordinary life and how I feel compelled to share just how extraordinary it all is. It occurred to me I might be presenting some kind of life that seems too idyllic. And am I really suggesting that there isn’t anything that can’t be solved by ripe tomatoes or blackberry jelly? I’m not a Facebook Fantasy post kind of girl. So I need to set the record straight.

My life is anything but perfect. I’m kinda over the whole death and dying chapters of late (having lost a brother last year and my mom last month). I get that for everything there is a season. I’m just ready for some of the more favorable headwinds and calmer weather.

I make sugar cookies out of shit balls (an observation made by someone later in my life). It’s true. I’ve spent my life coloring things with more brightness and warmth than what was actually transpiring. And as with everything, I think it requires balance lest we don a pair of rose colored glasses that permanently cast shade on reality. Balance for everything in life. Good and bad, light and dark…even life and death.

That’s a more challenging task when reality feels like being in a batting cage and the auto loader is lobbing said shit balls at 90 mph in 5 second intervals.

I wake up anxious most days. I feel lost at times. If I believed there was a “normal” for anyone, I’d be looking for what my new one looked like.

It’d be easy to give in and fall into a rabbit hole, lost with inner turmoil and no direction. I won’t. I refocus every day.

I look around at my beautiful life and instead of looking at what’s missing, I am just so fucking thankful for everyone who shows up every day…not just the humans. My cats, my dog. My blackberry bushes that when I take a picture just right, there is a quintessential rural barn in the distance.  It’s not mine. Not sure there’s anything in this life we really own save our own self and identity. And arguably, we sometimes perform like shape shifters and chameleons mirroring people and settings we move in and out of. I find myself with less patience or inclination to change colors for anyone or anything these days. Showing my age…again.

I borrow that image of the barn for my picture (can you see it?). It instantly brings to mind a moment in July when the berries are ripe, the sky is a stunning blue and the sun is so brilliantly shining I have to shield my eyes to take it all in. The heat of the sun sinks into my skin so deep and heavy I can feel it all the way down to my soul and it makes my heart sing like no other experience can. In that moment, my imperfect life is miles away. And like that Tibetan saying goes, I am taking care of my minutes because I know the years will take care of themselves.

I like to play the part of the Wizard sometimes. I’m behind the curtain pulling a few strings or rather transforming a few shit balls again. If you see my magical tunnel filled with dangling gourds, mini pumpkins, and tomatoes, delicately hung like ornaments on a Christmas tree, the reality is actually two cattle panels and a few T posts held together by some heavy duty zip ties. Hell, that describes my life most of the time! I’m what you’d call unskilled labor and yes, a late bloomer of sorts (that keeps blooming I hope). I try…fail…try again…and learn. I’m more than happy to admit ignorance if someone else has a better idea or can teach me something I don’t already know (especially if it adds sparkle and more magic to my already purpose filled life).

The plants I’ve been gifted or started as cuttings have been transplanted countless times because they keep outgrowing their pots. I have returning “volunteer” squash covering my backyard that I am turning into a sort of living art scene with big cushaw squash growing up on my deck boards and around my table and railings.

I find that when big life things happen, it cracks you wide open. Sometimes you wallow, sometimes you throw yourself into something new…and sometimes you admit that despite your best efforts, you are still not okay and sit with that for a minute. I’m better because I let myself be not okay. I ask for help if I need it. I know this is a sliver of time when my defenses are down. I’m more vulnerable on the outside than what is my comfort zone. I’m sharing today in a gush of emotions because it’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to.

I love the idea that like plants, we can keep growing so long as we don’t restrict growth in pots that become too small for our roots to expand. We’ve got the whole fucking universe to work with here…any constraints you find yourself bound in are self-inflicted and easily remedied.

So coming back to where I started…do ripe tomatoes and blackberry jelly fix everything? No, but they will fill your belly and feed your soul. And they’re an excellent start. Happy gardening in life or whatever interest makes your heart sing!

#Facebookfantasydebunked #thisisliving