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| What I see when I'm in my happy place... |
I invited my best local friends over last night for a little pre-party vino and light appetizers before heading out to go see a favorite (and very fun) band. I gave my girlfriends a tour of the house, showed them the things I've done since our wedding (which took place here last Summer) and shared with them stories of how, with great frugality, I acquired the things to make our home look like the model they described it as over and over. I showed them my new garden and they wondered how I was able to grow what I have when they felt all hope was lost in their experiences with the same plants. My mind raced to the idea of needing to spend more time with my friends to help them and their garden grow. After many laughs, embarrassing but hilarious "vault" stories we have that will forever go down in history we decided to go see the band perform. Apparently everyone in a 15 mile radius intended on seeing the band as well and despite the best of intentions, we ended up at a favorite local restaurant instead. This is where my love for my friends begins to be emphasized. Like me, they go with the flow. I was probably most disappointed but that's just me trying to keep things perfect I suppose as I was reminded of my constant desire for perfection throughout the evening. I have this one friend who is so incredibly inspiring that I almost want to cry when I think of how amazing she is. She is a mirror that I don't often look into, almost as though she's a Pandora's box that I want to peek into but am scared of what I may find. She frequently verbally projects how fortunate I am and I often need this more than I realize, especially after certain impacting days of turmoil. She sees how incredible things are and how beautiful my life truly is and draws attention to that when I least expect it. I, on the other hand and so very self-critical of myself and everyone around me that I sometimes end up pushing people away. Unintentionally, I find myself testing people's loyalties, love, strengths, or coping skills and if they fail I push them out. This friend of mine however, sees that in me and has made me realize it is due to my own weaknesses that I do this. Acceptance is a hard pill for me to swallow. Always. However, my friend has found the sugary word to preface me to swallow that sour pill. Anyone, anywhere and at any given time could ask her to describe me in one word and the word "perfect" is the first and possibly only word that comes to her mind. Now before you think I'm the most self-absorbed person in the world, I take this word as a compliment as well as realizing there is someone who is really beginning to see the real me and it scares the hell out of me. She knows I'm not perfect but how does she know me so well?! She knows I strive for perfection in all I do, but she knows that my desire for perfection in all that I do is merely me allowing myself to recluse, shut out the world and hide...which brings me back to my garden.
My garden is my sanctuary. There is no room for negativity here (other than the ones leaving my mind) and my thoughts, though calm, begin to race. Everything that blooms in our yard, I planted in the last year after buying our home. This morning after my husband left to take one of the boys to a baseball game and while the girls were still asleep, I made myself a cup of coffee. I grabbed a bag of miracle-gro, the garden hose and started watering everything I felt needed a nutritional boost. The spray and spattering sound of the water from the garden hose is such a white noise sound that I find myself lost in thought and re-living with intricate detail conversations from last night. The smell of the jasmine still in bloom on the trellis where my husband and I said our vows last year permeates all the air through the light morning haze and the sun starts to peek through the clouds. I love it here. I'm seeing seedlings I planted over spring break finally begin to emerge and have one more leaf than they did yesterday and I'm in awe. Then I realize that the friends that I hosted last night didn't exist to me five years ago. I'm thrilled at the thought of that. Then I begin to think back at some of the things I shared, things I've been struggling with regarding my children and my heart aches. I'm not perfect. I make mistakes. I'm not the perfect mother but feel I was amongst perfect mothers last night and I'm envious. I remind myself every day that I get one shot at this...at motherhood. There are no do-overs. I wish my girls were in my garden with me at this very moment as I feel a flood of emotions just pouring out of me...there's so much I want to tell them, to hug them, to tell them I try to be the best mother to them I could possibly be and I'm sorry for every time I've faltered. Then I realize I did that last week. I'll do it again for safe measure. This causes me to realize that raising children is a pretty close parallel to gardening. Each season, each plant is like every experience and opportunity that comes with motherhood. Whereas some plants (experiences) don't thrive, you plant something in it's place that will and transplant the non-thriving plant to a place where it may succeed as well. Some plants may die and some motherhood experiences may fail despite all the love and hope and faith you put forth. This, above all is the hardest for me to accept. With three daughters and a garden full of blooming and growing examples, I have to remind myself that the seasons constantly change, things around me are still growing and my striving for perfection still prevails. However nothing is going to be perfect, despite my best efforts, but it's going to be okay.
The abundance of plants I've planted in the yard, like my three girls, keep me on my toes. Where my husband may only see plants and constant receipts from the garden center, I'm seeing opportunities to escape, reflect and cleanse my mind of the toxins of the outside world that has become so hurtful. It's more than just a hobby for me, unfortunately. It's an addiction. I'm addicted to the euphoria of escape, the short walk across our yard to connect with myself and all the thoughts waiting for me to make my world and that of my family a better place and to try to encourage my children to bloom. It's springtime and I've got work to do. Despite the season, I always will. I'm a mom for life.
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| ...what the rest of the world sees. |
