It’s a sweltering Carolina evening. It was nearly a hundred degrees today, and it isn’t even summer yet.
After work I spoke with my mom and with my friend, Ana, in Seville. We helped each other count blessings, and together, we looked toward blessings yet unseen. We talked about letting go, and about about saints and angels.
So, after a full day, I came home and started pulling weeds. It’s a practice akin to strolling in a garden, but not so passive. It’s generally a sign that my mind is active and my body is feeling well. The heat didn’t matter, though I’m sure I could use a shower about now.
Pulling weeds makes my body busy, so that the racing thoughts in my mind will have some company. Thoughts of friends and family far away. Gratitude for jobs and for rest. Pondering the mystery of beehives, and trying hard to remember to water the flowers I planted in beautiful blue pots. Simultaneously raising questions and finding peace. My mind whizzing uncontrollably, and just fast-enough that every brain cell was happily engaged. Balance.
My hands got dirty. My hair, more than a little curly in the humidity. My heart, full and content. My journey continues.
There’s much peace to be found in pulling weeds…all is well.
Take good care,
Thanks, jooliargh, for the perfect picture!
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