Imagine your life is a garden. You have a couple of raised beds over there. A strip of soil along one fence. A greenhouse in the corner. Each section is a different part of your life. Perhaps your greenhouse holds your relationships. One of your raised beds is a job or project you’ve had for a while. Another raised bed is how you spend most evenings. Another raised bed is empty, waiting for you to fill it with something you need, something that brings you joy. The strip of soil is full of unknown bulbs you bought off a Syrian man that doesn’t speak much English but insisted this eclectic bunch was exactly what you needed – not necessarily what you wanted – and he couldn’t tell you what they were so you will have to wait and see what they grow and blossom into.
I want you to assign your garden some sections. I want you to plant new things. I want you to nurture and tend to them. I want you to rip up and stomp on whatever is not serving you anymore. Why waste your energy on those plants when they do not add any colour to your life or food on your plate? Perhaps there’s something withering away in a pot. What is it? Decide whether you should take the final step and chuck it out and use the pot anew or whether you will make time in your day to give it tenderness. Interrogate the reason you have left it in such a state and then make your decision on that. Be brutal.
Image courtesy of Ignacio Correia