Last weeks blogpost was heavy…very heavy. It felt good to release that part of me. An incremental speck of who I am. I’ve been called an old soul, philosophical (much to my family’s chagrin at times), and I recently learned from a Huffington Post article that I am an introvert! Imagine!!!
From the day I ‘birthed’ the NESTpirations blog, my wish was that it would be multi-dimensional. That when it’s all grown up and I look back at the early years, I hope I will see that I instilled a sense of diversity of spirit and thought from the beginning. Blogs…they’re just like us! So in that vain, I will be downsizing, decorating, and addressing matters of both the silly and serious nature as I document this “not so empty” phase of our life.
After last week I think we all need a break. Let’s go play outside in the grass! Like we used to. The philosophical (old soul) me will be there as well. She seems to come along whether she’s invited or not. I just can’t shake her! Actually, I think I need her. She points out things I might have otherwise missed.
As I stand on the lawn of our rental, I see no splendor happening in this grass. It looks sad and lifeless. It seems no matter how carefully it’s mowed and raked it can’t absorb the love. It’s pointless pouring nutrients on it because it’s impenetrable (clogged). The grass, like us, needs to be prepared to receive so that it (we) can give something equally meaningful in return.
I’m reminded of one of my favorite quotes from Dorothy Solle – “If my hands are fully occupied in holding onto something. I can neither give nor receive.” Guilty as charged. Sometimes my philosophical (frenemy) just can’t let go of something. It percolates and percolates until it has steeped so long it becomes bitter. Unsalvageable. The pungency of its acrid taste, so unwelcome as it lingers, I throw it away, wondering why I spent so much time on something totally useless. Lesson learned.
The much used proverb -“The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence” is popular for a good reason. Reality rarely looks as bright and green as our perception envisions it, often clogging our reality.
As my husband and I initially adjusted to our new life in Virginia, I heard the ‘grass is always greener’ mantra rotating loudly in my head like an old push mower.
Several months ago, on a trip back to Maryland, the noise in my head was finally squashed like a bothersome housefly that had taunted me one too many times. After we’d dug up family flowers at our old house, the new homeowners graciously invited us in for a drink. As Sam and I listened to them proudly talk about THEIR house, the burden of my perception had been freed. This house, our old family home held precious memories for all of us.
It was like a beloved childhood toy we didn’t want to part with, but knew we had outgrown.
Standing in our old kitchen, surprisingly, a calm came over me. I realized that what I carried within me was all I needed. My new reality looked brighter. Clearer.
This past year has been a growing year as we moved away from what we knew and loved. From warm and comfortable. I’ve learned that comfortable can also mean compacted and unable to receive or give. Stagnant. I discovered, in my heart of hearts, that there is no right or wrong side of the fence. And all I have to do is extend my hand – to the other side.
There is only the ground upon which I stand. And it is up to me to aerate my soul and feed my spirit.
Let the photosynthesis begin. Stand with both feet planted firmly on your lawn, discover what tickles your toes, eliminate the weeds, and ignore the pesky bugs.
Another glorious Fall season is fast upon us!