August field

The dusty landscape is still before me.

The August heat weighs heavy

and within the field of dry grass

there is a sprinkling of tiny flowers.

Tiny voices telling me

that tomorrow is another day

and if I just take care,

with swiftness and ease,

here is where I’ll remain.

week 27. Caretaking

This week’s entry has been one of the hardest to write thus far. My brother had emergency surgery a few days ago, a tumor was found in his brain. The surgery was a success, he’s well on his way to recovery but I was deeply affected by this turn of events. Yesterday I sat with him as he told me a bit about what he was going through. He said something to me that seemed to resonate, something along these lines: “Most of the time we spend so much energy thinking about the things we don’t have or the things we want, what if we spent that same time thinking about what god has blessed us with here and now”. I had to nod my head when he said this; I completely understood what he meant. I too find myself saddened by what I feel I want and can’t get. But seeing him there in the hospital bed, struggling to make sense of what had happened to him reminded me that I too need to try each day to accept my life and my own choices, trusting the reciprocal nature of how we care for others and others care for us in turn. Caretaking is one of the biggest lessons that plants can teach us. Just being there to assess the various needs, being attentive enough to observe and sensitive enough to know how to give back is what in needed to care for a garden. Isn’t that how we nurture those we care about anyway?