Futile or Not
Yesterday afternoon, as I walked from one room to another, I was struck by a sudden sense of futility, and I wondered what the heck I was doing. Well, I knew I was walking into a room, but that wasn’t what made me stop and think. It was this whole gardening thing. I’ve been so focused on babying my yard (as one friend puts it), that I hadn’t stop to look sideways at what I was doing. And when I did have that change of focus (going through literal doorways is often accompanied by going through figurative doorways) it all seemed so . . . futile. Ludicrous. I mean, does it really matter what we do with our time? Why spend so much time spent on what, in the end, is a rather unimportant project?
Luckily, my doorways are close to one another, so by the time I got to my destination, a second or two later, sanity (or at least a sanity of a different sort) prevailed, and I realized I was right, it doesn’t matter. In that case, working outside, enjoying the beauty of the green and purple and orange and pink and whatever other colors manage to punctuate my space, matters as much as anything does.
And anyway, I have to do something with my time, so foolish or not, I might as well be working outside. At least I’m not starting wars or gunrunning or selling drugs or anything else that would mess with my serenity. (So far, the only thing that’s messed with my serenity was going through the door yesterday, and it’s impossible to live in a house without ever going through a door.)
Writing about my yard also seems foolish, but then, it’s what I do (at the moment, anyway). I write and I garden.
Small talk.
At least I’m not writing about the weather. Oh, wait. I do write about the weather, too. Speaking of which, the high today will be close to 100 degrees Fahrenheit, the low tomorrow night will be near freezing. Yikes.
As for today’s gardening chores, I planted the flowers I bought the other day, pulled weeds, searched for signs of seeds sprouting (found some!).
And I found a home for the bamboo with a friend of a friend, assuming it survives these temperature variances. I decided it was too much of a responsibility to try to keep the plant alive and at the same time try to keep its destructive powers under control. I have enough to deal with in my yard as it is.
As you can see, futile or not, here I am, back to gardening and gardening talk.
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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.
