Tales of a Wayward Yogini

That little voice within has been talking to me for months now. I’ve been avoiding hermessages, marking them as unread, hoping she’d bug off. You know what I mean. I could hear her, but I wasn’t ready to accept her truth. While I’ve enjoyed writing the garden series, I’ve been feeling depleted, knowing I was offering a fraction of what I’m able to, letting the beauty of my garden do the work for me. This last week, I finally listened to her plea and joined forces with that wise inner voice.

I can see these beauties from our NOW CLEAN bathroom windows. Apologies for missing Friday. Truth be known, my friend, Laurie’s, memorial was scheduled for Saturday and I didn’t have the bandwidth to write last week. The gathering was lovely, but I dreaded it beforehand. Unsurprisingly, I managed lots of cleaning instead of writing. On that note, your many comments about using cleaning as a distraction truly brightened my week.

This drawer was packed before I cleaned and purged. I had to laugh a few days ago when chatting with my Substack buddy Paulette Bodeman about self-soothing, admitting that when the world spirals out of control, I clean. Every drawer or door I open lately becomes an invitation to purge, clean, and organize. Over the past month, I’ve made numerous trips to Goodwill.

Settling back in after another trip down to LA to visit little Milo, I’m considering how calming it is to hold a sleeping baby. Welcoming a second new family member this year has deeply shifted my perspective, serving as a gentle reminder to appreciate the wonder in our lives. Amidst the ever-constant noise, I’m making a conscious choice to focus on gratitude and beauty, and oh yes, our two new littles. Now that we’re home again, I’ll be working on more garden stories for next week.

it would be a hydrangea My favorite white hydrangeas are already greeting me on my deck each morning. Full transparency, I cannot recall the name of my next-door neighbor in my early 20’s. Her care for the garden seeped into my soul, sidling up next to what I’d already learned from my parents. I’ve given her a name because to refer to her as a neighbor without a name just doesn’t set with me.

Thank you to all my readers who responded to my Friday post with likes/shares and stories of their own about the love of a garden. My dear friend, Tracey, coincidentally offered this quote in her recent Sunday Agape Love Message, a lovely age-old message which could not be more true. "Flowers always make people better, happier and more helpful; They are the sunshine, food and medicine to the mind." Luther Burbank (1849-1926) The roses in our garden this year are, in a word, gorgeous.

Many of my readers are nature lovers, so I thought I’d write about my lifelong love affair with gardening. I’ll also share some life revelations I’ve pondered recently while tending my lovelies—those will appear in the last post of this series. There’s a lot of history to cover, so I’ll break it up and hope you’ll share your stories, too. Let’s start at the beginning. My parents were very different in nature, but both shared a love of gardening.

Photo by Sameep Adhikari on Unsplash Having paused my writing for the last few weeks, I’m feeling compelled to return refreshed and upbeat. But the truth is, the last few weeks have been a mix of two parts joy to one part sorrow. It could be worse, two parts sorrow to one part joy, so in that respect I’m feeling grateful. But it’s definitely been a time of retrospect and taking stock of my blessings, being reminded that life is transient and temporary, and needing to urge myself to seize the day.

If you ask what kept me from posting last week or keeping up on world events, I have receipts. A Monday morning conversation with Lucia was my priority. We had much to share and only a few days together. Later that day, Amy made delicious homemade tortillas to go with my Spanish Chicken entree. As she kneaded and stretched the dough, Lucia and I once again spent time together at the kitchen table, the very table I fed my kids on when they were young.

Before I begin, I wanted to thank my readers for the many heartfelt responses to my Friday post. They meant more than I can say. I said my next post would be a celebration, and I always keep my promises. Can you guess who’s visiting this Sunday? If you guessed the little one in the photo above along with my daughter and son, you’d be right! And after a long weekend with friends and lots of time in the garden, I feel recharged on all levels and excited for their arrival.