Hope

Hope is a thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.  -Emily Dickinson

Waking up after a 4 hour sleep is far short of refreshing.  My mind constantly turns and cannot rest.  My body aches--it has ached for weeks.  I know I need sleep. Tonight, I hope to find it.  "Rest" and "Take care of yourself" everyone says.  "I'm doing the best I can," I respond.  I know it is not good enough because my arms twitch, and I've had a muscle spasm in my left eye for about a week, I think.  People may think I'm winking at them.  I'll let them go on thinking it still. 

For weeks, I have lived without sleep.  I have lived with eating next to nothing, and what I do eat is garbage food (but nothing beats a good helping of Velveeta Shells & Cheese or a Tombstone Cheese Pizza!)--and anything but Gluten-Free, a lifestyle I acquired 10 months ago.  I have stopped noticing the constant anxiety pit that I feel in my stomach.  I have to ask myself every day to double check the status of showering, teeth brushing, and deodorant-wearing.  Most days I do all three--let's hope you're not standing downwind on the other days.  Exercise is non-existent because my body is too weak to even fathom lifting a dumbbell or running a block.  When I feel angry, adrenaline fuels me for a short time, but quickly dies.  And my adrenal glands have been the only gas that I had in a reserve tank and at this point--they are empty. 

It is time for a fresh start.  Time to make sure, that if nothing else takes place, that at the end of the day I have eaten, showered & practiced basic personal hygiene, and I lay down to sleep. 

The worrying is useless.  It hasn't helped anyone.  Hasn't made anything better.  So today, I will release it and instead listen for the wordless, endless tune in my soul and cling to the hope I need to get me back on my own 2 feet.  I've already eaten breakfast.  Next will come a shower, some tooth brushing and even a little deodorant.  I hope to have conversations and to interface with loved ones that will help to nourish my soul, water my dying tree and help me to grow strong again.  And if that does not happen, I will have to find the strength to remove myself from any weather that threatens my tree's well-being.

This spring, I decided I wanted to grow a garden and I wanted to have yard of the year.  I spent hours and lots of dollars on planters, pots, dirt, seeds, flowers and vegetables.  The front had purple and the side was blue.  And in the back--I decided to do some container vegetable gardens.  Hanging plants hung on every hook and the porch had pots with various succulents.  My favorite was a decorative wash bin that I filled with black river rocks and put in a host of carnivorous plants.  Everyday, I took the time to water, to weed, and to care for these.  I may be biased, but I'm certain that if Martha Stewart had come by, she would've wanted to shake my hand. 

In recent weeks, it has gone to the back burner.  The grass grew tall in only a week with rains that dumped out endless water.  The weeds grew even more.  And then the blazing heat scorched my little plants.  When I finally stopped to look, all of my garden endeavors were a mess.  Yard of the year trophy had been revoked. 

A friend loaned an electric hedge trimmer.  I fired up the lawnmower.  And now everything has been cut.  The bushes are trimmed, the grass is cut (with diagonal cuts--I do like to show off, you know).  And the salvageable flowers are visible as the weeds have been scaled back.  I didn't do that on my own.  Even when we were feeling disconnected, we all worked together and got it done.

I can't promise that my trophy will be returned, nor that I can maintain the level of care for that garden anymore that I once did.  The container plants were a flop, but we have had a few good tomatoes off of a few plants.  Mostly the flop was that I over planted in them and didn't create drain holes (that's a hint to anybody who wants to copy me next year).  The carnivorous plants are still alive and are still my favorite.  But right now, I need as much low-maintenance responsibility for anything else as possible because my maintenance time, energy and cash flow have to be for myself.  The yard will not embarrass the neighbors--I can assure you of that--but it will be a small hobby for me and nothing else.

I hope today is a good day for us all.  We all need it.  And if ugliness interferes with my hopes, I ask for the strength to step aside and let ugliness pass me by, and not absorb me. 

I know I can do it.  I know we can do it.  I know our garden can flourish again if first we take care of ourselves and take care of each other.  The season of fall is upon us.  Let it be a season of changing leaves, a season of change--and not a season of loss.

Love always & forever, little rabbit,
La