, , , , , ,

I have been flat as a pancake these past few days. I haven’t felt like I could manage to tie my shoes let alone get up the energy to take my feet out the door. This is an all-too-familiar slump I fall into. I don’t slip into it as much as I used to, but when I do, Mama-Mia, watch out for my pitiful behaviour. I start questioning my every movement and motive as I meander my way through the mud. It’s ridiculous and I know it. But does that make it go away? No, that just makes me wallow even more in it. The other day I found myself actually slump-shouldered and shuffling my feet down the street. I could have been 104 the way I looked. Actually, part of that was because my feet hurt like a toothache, as my mother would say. It didn’t help that all of this was happening with a backdrop of grey clouds and enough rain to sink the Ark.

Then yesterday, a glimmer of sun came out and I finally yelled at myself loud enough to hear:  “Enough, already Ms. Eyerman! Do Something!” But what, I answered? Playing endless games of Free Cell was not going to help my mood at all. I needed physical exertion. Then, as if I had received a message from Mother Earth herself, I was pulled out of my slump and onto my porch where un-potted plants beckoned me and soaked seed packets begged to be put into the earth. With digger in hand I nestled nasturtiums and potted spearmint. I rescued a cat nip plant that the cats had discovered the day before and planted it in a hanging basket to foil their future foraging for their drug of choice. Then I apologized to the seed packets of zinnias that I had forgotten to take in and poured their soaked contents into ready dirt. Then I swept away piles of dirt and leaves and arranged all the pots into little gardens of their own. And, as god had done, I rested and let the peace of what I had created wash away my moody-mood.

Today, I went to see the documentary, The Gardener. I can’t remember all the beautiful and moving words Frank Cabot spoke about creating a garden, but I did remember he said, “Everyone has a garden inside of them.” I’m going home now and taking myself out onto my wee porch garden and appreciating the garden inside of me.