It’s been a long time since I’ve written. A really long time.
My cubicle finally got the better of me – for the worse or for the better, sometimes I guess you never can tell. But I am done now. I have bid it adieu. The sadness of strangers cannot sustain a soul or build a life of meaning. And so, here I am. It is once again September, and I am once again starting anew.
So. What now.
It is one thing to have faith that life will find a way in the garden; it is quite another thing to have faith that YOUR life will find a way in the world. But then I remember our pumpkin patch last year, how we doubted it, planted more and ended up giving away gorgeous gourds to every baker and jack-o-lantern maker who crossed our path. Maybe my life will be like my pumpkin patch. Unexpected abundance springing forth from some small and fragile thing.
I suppose though, really, that is always the way. What faith we have as gardeners every time we plant a tiny seed, trusting that from that small, insignificant speck, we will find what we need to sustain us. Perhaps the answer to the question “what now” is to start planting some seeds in my life. Not seeds of chains and misery and business-as-usual, but something else. Something new. Something sustained and enduring, something full of joy.