This year I plan to be more productive. This month I plan to lose the holiday weight gain. This week I plan to relax. (Why not, it’s freezing outside and most of the garden is dormant, anyway — read: dead — including the weeds, so there’s not much to do.) Today I plan to write.
Wow. I feel better already! Talk about productive, I’ve set a plan, followed it for a full week now…why, I’ll have this resolution thing down pat in no time! Yes si-ree-bob, I’m on my way.
To where, you might ask? Well, now, wait a minute. Glancing about my office, I don’t see it. “Wait–hold on,” I say, with a finger held high. “I know it’s around here somewhere.”
Maybe the kitchen. I do seem to spend a lot of time there. Perhaps I left it with my “to do” pile on the counter by the sink. I know, I know, my husband told me. “Don’t put anything next to the sink you don’t want wet.” Tell me later. I’ve got a list of resolutions to find!
Ever stop and wonder why we put ourselves through it? Why we bother conjuring up these grandiose ideas in the first place? I think the answer is growth. Much like our plants (we’re talking perennial in nature here, not those annual types where you have to yank them out by their roots after only one season – I mean, what kind of waste is that? After all my hard work? Those babies better stay in the ground, as long as possible!).
But I digress. Back to the issue at hand, I believe we seek growth, just like our plants. All the better, if our caretaker prunes us, feeds us, and generally tends to our well being.
Unfortunately in my case, I am my caretaker, so the occasional lapse can be expected, although lists do help in this regard. If only I could reliably find the thing, I’d be in business. Big business! As it stands, I struggle. Every year, there seems to be something else I need to improve. And I thought I was making so much progress…
But maybe that’s the point. Progress. Growth. Steadily moving ourselves forward, upward, in an effort to reach our greatest heights. It may be our habits we want to change, or perhaps our outlook, but whatever the goal, it seems to me a clipping back of the dead weight (too much pumpkin pie, in my case) will allow for new growth; the beauty for which we strive, blooming to life from the inside out.
We nurture our blossoms until they’re fresh and full (Blossoms, not bottoms. Am I harping? Go ahead, add it to the list.). I mean, if we don’t, isn’t it we who suffer? We who lose the beautiful palette of color in our lives, or the decadent fragrance which escalates our senses, carrying away our imagination on the wings of a glorious spring breeze?
Sort of like an old hedge, left to her own device. Over time, dead spots can form, growth can be stunted. In some cases, if the hedge plants herself in the right spot, she can grow wild, maybe even full, but not all growth is healthy. Without proper attention, it can become host to disease—disease which could have been prevented with a spritz of attention, or cured with an ounce of diligence.
A rose will never reach her full potential without a yearly pruning. And how about Grand Oaks? Without proper thinning, they can become over-stressed, thereby susceptible to stormy weather. Even our vegetables. Without proper clipping, their production can be greatly diminished, thereby reducing the harvest.
It makes sense we women need the same. So this year, I say: embrace the change. Make those resolutions, write them down (on a list, you know exactly where to find) and follow through to the best of your ability.
No one’s perfect. That’s what makes us special; human. We all have the ability to grow, a challenge that incites action, stirs our very heart and soul, and leads us to a future of abundance and prosperity.
Let’s do it! And welcome in the New Year and a new dawn.
(But don’t dilly-dally. After you’ve rested, pack your bag – we’re going gardening!)
BTW: I found my list. It was under my Vegetable Gardener’s Bible, right next to the notes for my next novel. Like I said, this is going to be a productive year!