The other day I finally trimmed back the rose bushes along the garden bed. There was one lonely bloom that promised to pop but every morning when I check it, it stayed nestled in it’s bud.
Except for some Forget-Me-Not seeds Amelia planted and some pumpkin seeds out front, there is nothing growing in the garden this year. I noticed so much dead growth in the bushes: branches and twigs that were brown and overrunning the three plants. I had to be careful where I placed my arms to reach low and cut them away. The thorns dug in a few times. I wasn’t wearing gloves and my hands were bloody by the end of it. It felt good to be doing something in the garden because I have forfeited any responsibilities this year.
The roses presented a good lesson in removing old growth and paths that are no longer viable and thriving. In doing so, multiple blooms appeared within hours and the one bloom that was there began to unfold. It felt like magic to see the progression happen over an afternoon.
I considered how much energy I send to old dead paths in my brain: situations, moments and relationships that have long since died off but are still with me, blocking my ability to thrive because my energy is so dispersed. What would clipping some of those old paths do? Would it help me thrive and bloom; making abundantly clear what I should focus my efforts on?
All week I have wanted to be out in the backyard having coffee with the roses. I’ve been waiting for the blooms to pop and brighten my day. It just took some effort to help the blooms come along. It also reminded me that the garden is here to, wanting to be with me, even as I try to give it a rest and just let it be.