Textures for ten

Today started out with some significant yelling. The world is overwhelming right now, for grownups as well as kids. You have permission to hold space for that emotion too. For yourself. For others.  I took myself for a long walk in the woods to calm down. A grown up time-in nature instead of time out of my own head meeting other people's expectations. Sometimes noticing all that is going on outside of yourself is a good way to refocus and remember that we are only very small and insignificant cogs in a much greater machine. When the panic or anger rises inside of you, have you ever tried the focusing exercise to find five things for each of your senses? Grounding. That's what we are all trying to do right now. 

I started  thinking about one of my daughters current art assignments to find many different textures. I decided I was going to see what  I could find. I was really mad, so five anything would definitely not be enough. While the human world feels imploding from this crazy, but also infinitely fascinating virus, the rest of the world moves on. The world though, it's there, offering its gifts, whether or not we chose to look for the blessings. Here the world is getting ready for spring. There are hints of colors popping out. The daffodils and crocus are on the cusp of unfurling. We counted four birds nests. I'm grateful that if we must be in a pandemic, here this one is happening at the beginning of spring and not the beginning of winter. I'm glad that for the most part things are emerging more than they are dying. Today I found what I think was a turtles nest, exciting because I have never found one before; but all of the shells were cracked. The cosmic significance of that was overwhelming. Still, though, beauty in brokenness. 

The weather was amazing and finally warming. I can feel my fingers! I came home and the first of the seeds we planted is opening. Which, even when home, I never feel confident that step will come. I'm like Toad in Arnold Lobel's "The Garden."  "Now seeds start growing!" I spend a lot of time shouting at things, that maybe I should be singing too.  It's hard to have faith in things beneath the surface. I too feel like everything requires my oversight, presence, and management. I took out more rage on dirt clots. I mixed and filled pots. I moved compost.  I try to trust in the mighty powers of the microbial world. Like toad, I too must start what I can, and then walk away. Soil from refuse. Seeds from soil. Soon.