I spent today in the garden.
I stoked the bonfire we’d had the night before.
I weeded and fertilised the vegetable patch.
I sowed every packet of flower seeds I owned, something I’ve been meaning to do for years. (They’re all so old they probably won’t even germinate.)
I felt the winter sun on my face, ate snow peas off the vine, picked carrots with my kids, shared seeds with my neighbours.
I feel rebalanced.
Work has been consuming me lately. Every minute of every day, I feel the never-ending deadlines breathing down my neck. My right side is aching from mousing and tap, tap tapping away at a keyboard (as I am now). But today, I remembered that I am the master of my own domain (quite literally I work for myself) so I decided to exercise that glorious privilege of being my own boss and say: “Not today.”
I am a little surprised myself at how much better I feel because of one day in the garden. If only my Dad could read these words! He’d chuckle to himself knowing that while the seeds he planted in me as a kid have taken a long time to germinate, at 39 years old, it’s in a garden that I find myself.