If We Are Going to Come Out of This Whole, We Have to Use This Season to Heal
We planted our garden two weeks ago. Since then, we have had two bouts of frost and a sudden, fleeting flurry of snow. Last evening, while supper baked in the oven, my eldest daughter and I went to check on our plants.
The ground was muddy from so much rain. I lifted the containers from the tomato plants and saw we had only lost one. But even that one I couldn’t pull from the ground. Instead, I pinched off the dead leaves and tucked it back in with dirt. We then checked on the little tents my husband constructed for my squash mounds. I dug away the dirt and lifted the plastic to peek inside.
Most of the plants were flourishing, but a few had gotten frost bitten if their leaves had brushed the plastic or if they were too close to where the plastic overlapped, letting the cold come through.
My daughter asked, “Are they dead?”
I told her they weren’t, but we had to carefully break off the dead leaves.
“Why?” she said.
“So the plant can focus on healing itself.”
As I worked on each tent—weighing down the edges with dirt, making sure the plastic seams were airtight—I thought of the quarantine, and how we are each tucked inside our little huts, waiting for this cold to pass.
It feels like we cannot flourish until this containment is lifted. And yet, what if this containment is allowing us to heal as individuals, families, communities, and nations?
It’s difficult—if not impossible—to truly be introspective while we are rushing hither and yon, and I believe part of our discomfort is that we finally have time to sort through the flotsam of our thoughts, pains, and fears.
But if we are going to come out of this whole, we have to face the uncertainty and the waiting with courage, knowing that when the plastic is unspooled from our hot houses, and we lift our faces to the sun, we can grow and produce fruit because we have chosen to use this season to heal.
How does nature speak to you?
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.
Meg Delagrange
Such wise, beautiful, loving words. It’s so hard to wait. I’d rather errect the golden calf of certainty, contributing my will to achieve at all costs, instead of surrendering to the process. I’m learning the wisdom in nourishing my soul in this season as we all wait… knowing that Love is working all things together for our good.