Time Gardening
a reprise
Did I write a version of this post two years ago, almost to the day? Yes. Did I copy and paste most of it here (with a bit of editing to make it up to date)? Yes. Did I need to re-read it as we head into another summer season? Also, yes. Maybe it’ll be helpful for you as well, even if you were around these parts already two years ago and read it then. Some things are helpful to read on repeat, or at least annually.
Road trips. Cookouts. Camps. Clubs. Far away vacations. Visiting family. Hosting dinner parties. Attending events. Keeping the yard in tip top shape. Building a new garden fence. Working a day job. Remodeling the house. Paving the driveway. Redoing the landscaping. Leveling up in business. Working a day job. Maintaining a huge garden. Digging a trench in front of the house and laying drain tile.1 Going boating, hiking, camping, biking at least X number of times. Generating a great work of art or finishing a book draft.2 Canning 86 pints of tomatoes. Extra math and reading for the kids. Healthy homemade meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Working a day job. Yoga or meditation five mornings a week. Date night. Girls night. Play dates. Hang outs. Back to school shopping. Maintaining an online presence.3 Scheduling and keeping appointments. And so on.
There are a lot of things I want to do this summer, a lot of things I could do this summer, a lot of things I feel like I should do this summer. It’s tempting to pack every minute. Maybe you can relate. It can be tricky to discern where to put your energy when the season shouts “now’s your chance, you only live once, the weather’s good so do it now, make sure you (or your children) are getting ahead” in various forms. Time is of the essence. The summer clock is ticking.
In Jenny Odell’s book, “Saving Time: Discovering Life Beyond the Clock,” early on she writes, ““Simply as a gap in the known, doubt can be the emergency exit that leads somewhere else.”
I propose we go into summer with plenty of doubt around what we’re led to believe summer needs to look like. That we take the emergency exit toward doing things differently. That we omit what isn’t ours, and exist in, as Odell says, “restlessness and change that runs through all things.”
You don’t have to do all the things this summer. In fact, I’m going to go as far as saying you should consider doing less than you think you should.1
Do the things you truly want to do, is what I’m saying. The things that fill you up with aliveness, the things that make you remember what it feels like to be fully present in your body, in your place, with your people, in your life. Sometimes this means planting a huge garden or maintaining the yard or hosting a dinner party or vacationing in a far off land. Sometimes it means leveling up in something or putting in the work where the work is necessary. But don’t do things just because you think you should, or the things that deplete more than they fill, or the things that are photogenic but not actually fun or nourishing for you, or helpful to anyone else.
Become a gardener of time to claim your place on the throne of stillness— such cultivation ensures each moment passes just how it's meant to— not too quick nor too slow, rather simply existed within, a perch worth returning to moment by moment, again and again. There is so much life beyond the shoulds, the clock, and the illusion of keeping up. Walk away from the notion that you have to keep a certain pace, or do certain things, or optimize….anything. The only pace you have to keep is the one that works in your life – because when you find that pace, you are fully equipped to add to the healing of the world.
I’ll leave you with one last quote from Saving Time: “Would it be possible, not to save and spend time, but to garden it—by saving, inventing, and stewarding different rhythms of life?”
Gardening time sounds like the way to go. Plant seeds, thin what’s not necessary, nourish, tend. Let’s reinvent how we interact with the season, and see if the rhythm created by doing so helps us, and the world, to heal just a little bit more.
Speaking of gardening, I spent most of the weekend getting the rest of the plants and seeds in the ground. There’s too much quack grass around the perimeter and a new fence (as noted on the list at the beginning) would be nice, but things are planted and growing, hummingbirds are visiting the new blooms, and we’ve had a few salads directly from the soil already. That’s enough for this season.
The garden is far from perfect but it’ll do.
Then again, the definition of perfection is pretty fluid
so some version of perfect may well be within reach
after all— it helps when hummingbirds
visit bleeding hearts and new blooms
open, reaching out with the idea that
just existing is perfect in itself.
(I happened to catch a tiny bit of the hummingbird’s visit yesterday afternoon.)
UPCOMING SUMMER EVENTS
Women Outdoors at Springbrook Nature Center: Connecting with Nature for Wellbeing
Do the words "slow" and "summer" feel too far apart to ever meet? If summer's pace feels like too much, spend an evening with author Heidi Barr to cultivate the pace that supports being fully present for the season. Meet in the Springbrook Nature Center Pavilion at 6pm, where we'll gather, do some introductions, and spend some time with simple reflection and mindfulness practices before heading out on a mindful hike. We'll close our time together with some gentle stretching and poetry. Participants must be 16 years of age or older to register. Registration required through Springbrook Nature Center: Register Here.
Two years ago, this was “Residing the garage.” Thankfully, that got done. Onward to drain tile.
For the first time in 10 or so years, I’m not actively working on a book draft. This feels a little weird, but it’s nice to have a break. It’s probably a few years overdue. Time to actually refill the writing well (or to stick with gardening verbiage, cultivate instead of harvest) rather than just thinking to myself doing so would be a good idea.
This has dropped off a bit, and I’m not sad about it.