These last two weeks have been a little bit difficult for me. I've spent far too much time being angry and then sad and then depressed and then angry again. Sometimes I find it nearly impossible to accept that this is my life now and I think that's where my anger and sadness have come from. Because these last couple weeks have been all about learning to accept my limitations.
Those of you that know me well, know that I pretty much don't know the meaning of the word limitations. I will push myself further and harder than is probably good for me. I don't ask for help. I just do it. Right now, I can't "just do" anything. I am having to ask for help for even the most simple tasks, like carrying the milk from the refrigerator to the counter or putting on my socks. I have accepted that. For some reason, it's okay for me to ask for help with little things, to accept that I may need a little help right now while I'm waiting in insurance limbo. But those are not the limitations I have been facing lately. Instead, I've been looking at the big picture. And frankly, the big picture scares the hell out of me.
It started with a seed catalog. It's one of my favorite times of the year, going through this big colorful catalog full of garden potential, trying to narrow it all down to what will be grown in the garden this year. Do I stick with the old favorites? Branch out and try something new? A little of both? Yes, I am easily excited. But this year, there was no feeling of excitement. Instead there was nothing but feelings of dread because the truth is, I just don't think I can maintain the huge garden we always put in. Not anymore. Sure, I could ask for help and I know I could get it. I would have tons of help planting and weeding and watering and everything. But I wasn't thinking about this year. I was thinking about the big picture. Long term. Realizing that there are now limits to what I can do. And there always will be. Like it or not, my life is, and has to be, different now.
So, sure. I could call up everyone I know and they could all pitch in to help me put in the garden this year. But what happens next year? And the year after that? And none of that even addresses why I have a garden. It's not about the end product for me. Yes, those heirloom tomatoes are delicious, but I put in the garden every year because it brings me joy. The feeling of my hands digging into the sun-warmed earth, the rich, deep smell of the compost being mixed in, even getting on my knees and pulling the weeds from around the precious little sprout. Those are the things that bring me joy, the things that are good for my soul. Letting someone else do that work for me defeats the entire purpose behind my garden. So, I've struggled. I've delayed ordering seeds. I've spent a lot of time going over the possibilities until I finally made a decision.
This year, the garden fence is coming down. The strawberry plants will be relocated. I'm accepting my limitations and I'm making room for more things that bring me joy by putting in a patio and building a beautiful place to talk and eat with friends and family, play music and sing. Things that make me even happier than gardening. Because right now, I need all the happy can get. I'll still have a garden, but it will be much smaller and much more manageable. And there will likely be an abundance of potted flowers and herbs, too, because I really just can't help myself. And I have learned a valuable lesson that I probably should have learned years ago-
that accepting my limitations is not the same thing as admitting defeat.
:)
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