Sowing Seeds of Hope
Today started out crummy. I slept in my clothes, not a good beginning. Yesterday, I ate about thirty smoked, lighted salted almonds and worked a crossword puzzle at the same time, so I didn’t chew them well. I followed the almonds with a huge plate of nachos, and continued to work the crossword puzzle, again not chewing well. An hour later, stomach pains hit. I have been so careful about avoiding such distress that I’ve had little need for Zantac, so mine was expired. I took it anyway, hoping it had outlived its expiration date. It had not, so I retired to bed, groaning in pain. After a few hours, I reached for the Pepto and some ginger ale. By that time, I was exhausted from pain and self-chastisement for eating so fast. I fell asleep in my clothes and stayed that way until this morning.
It’s Friday, so I had to take the trash and recycling cans to the street. I gathered the errant cans, bottles, and papers from the house and schlepped the blue recycling can to the street. Next, I removed the dead (literally) things from the fridge, again chastising myself for not eating those leftovers and not cooking that thawed chicken. When the foul garbage gathering was over, I schlepped the huge trash can to the street.
I always feel creepy after touching the trash and recycling cans, so I decided it was a good time to get my hands wet and water the plants. A huge mound of dirt was strewn across the walkway because something dug during the night and made a mess of the flowerbed I planted on Sunday.
I felt diminished and disheartened and it was only 8:30. I continued to water and then I noticed the seedlings. On Sunday, I planted several blue morning glory seeds. I didn’t soak them like the directions advised, but I wet the soil well and kept it wet each day—after hosing the strewn dirt from the creature digging during the night.
I felt so low that I almost didn’t notice the seedlings. They are so new that they blend in with the surrounding dirt. When I saw them, I smiled. In spite of the dead things in the trash, yesterday’s clothes, and germs on my hands from the garbage cans, I felt hope. Here was something new, something growing, something that will bloom and bring beauty.
Far too often, I berate myself for the chaos I create in my life. Plenty around me reminds me of the seeds of chaos I’ve sown. Not often enough do I congratulate myself for the beauty I create in my life. I sow seeds and I often forget that beauty will result—and not just in the garden. The morning glory seedlings reminded me of creating beauty—and hope. Perhaps the flower’s name is no accident; a bit of glory early in the day brought hope and a smile and changed my day.