Spring is officially here – and (for me) that means endless hours of digging and spreading soil, arranging plants and seeds and hoping against hope that this season will not face the wrath of Oklahoma’s temperamental proclivities. It could hail in June… we could have gusts of wind so strong they blow away oversized ceramic pots… we could get a deep freeze in mid-April. You never really know around here. However, if you are passionate about gardening, you tend to forget those things every spring, because spring brings a renewed sense of hope and optimism that leads some of us to conveniently forget about the trials and tribulations of seasons past.
Last weekend, I set aside a whole day just to work in the garden. This is the first time this spring that I’ve been able to tackle it. I had started several different cruciferous plants (broccoli, kale, Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, etc.) in my greenhouse a couple of months ago, but the weather was unseasonably cold, and I couldn’t get my greenhouse warm enough to convince the seeds to germinate. So, I’m choosing to focus on summer crops instead, and took this time to get everything ready. This was one of those time that I forgot I was no longer in my 30s, and chose to tackle my garden with a dogged determination and massive quantities of caffeine. Six hours later, I was a sore, raw mess… aching hips and knees, throbbing forearms and wrists, and a nasty sunburn on my lower back where my shirt rose above my waistband as I kneeled to weed. That evening, I cursed my stubbornness and overzealous nature while popping aspirin and wincing as I squirmed in my recliner.
“When will I ever learn? Why do I try to do so much at once?”
The truth of the matter is, I do it because I am too proud to admit that my body is not able to handle that much work for such a long stretch, even with breaks. I’m in reasonably good health, and I’m physically active, but there are still limitations. After ruminating my situation, I chose to honor my body’s needs and rested for two days before venturing out again. This time, I promised myself that I would take my time and only do what I was able to do… I gave myself permission to relax and use common sense. With that permission came a sense of enjoyment and whimsy that I haven’t felt in that garden for a long time… I discovered the joy of piddling and poking in the dirt again, seeing little sprouts popping up and tiny creepy crawlies burrowing out of the soil, and a still voice reminded me that life doesn’t have to be a race OR a marathon. Some tasks are more enjoyable when you just nibble away at them. I walked away without being in pain, and I had something to look forward to next time.
Have you considered taking this approach to a facet in your life that leaves you sore (physically or mentally)?
