Living Well

“She endured. And survived. Marginally, perhaps, but it is not required of us that we live well.”
Anne Cameron

The hell it ain’t!

I spent most of my adult life enduring. And surviving. And living marginally. And I’m here to tell you that “half-life” is a half-death and that isn’t any kind of life worth living.

Whether you believe this is the only ride we get on the merry-go-round or one of many on the path to enlightenment doesn’t really matter. This is the life we have right now and it is far too precious to squander meerly enduring and surviving. Far too precious to be lived marginally.

That is not a lesson most of us are taught as we prepare to enter adulthood. Maybe its to protect us from disapointment, or maybe because its not a lesson our parents ever learned.

But it is something we can learn ourselves if we open up to the beauty and wonder of the world around us. Once we begin to realize what a precious gift this life is, we begin to recognize the potential we have within, and living marginally is no longer a option.

I squandered my early adult years and spent undue energy ignoring my potential in a misguided attempt to “fit in” to a marginal life.

I’m SO over that! Now I choose to live my life embracing the wonder of my world and guiding others seeking their own precious lives.

At the end of my days, each and every one of the rest of my days, I want to look back and say “yes, I lived it well”.

Weeding Time In the Garden

I weeded the gardens yesterday. Something I had been meaning to do for some time and had yet somehow managed to slip by. From my vantage point inside the house it didn’t really look that bad, a little disorderly maybe but not so bad. Boy was I wrong.

As I tore out indeterminate weeds and hearty grasses hell-bent on reclaiming that patch of earth as lawn, it made me think of how I’d gotten into the habit of allowing weeds of self-doubt into the garden of my being as well. And how easy it is for the grasses of complacency to take hold.

It happened so subtly that I didn’t notice untilĀ I listened to that little voice inside that insisted I shift my perspective, get out of the house and face the garden head-on.

It happened because I didn’t take them seriously. What’s a couple of weeds, some harmless blades of grass? They don’t amount to much, and in and of themselves they don’t take much away from the garden as a whole do they?

The problem is they are never “in and of themselves”. And once they set root they begin to spread so before long they are choking the flowers so carefully planted then left to fend for themselves – those dreams, those plans that have yet to be acted upon, those hopes for the future being systematically squeezed out by fears, by practical concerns and by opportunities to take the easy way out and walk away.

And so I pulled and ripped and tore and vowed to never again let my beautiful flowers be suffocated by my neglect. I’ll give them the space they need to grow and flourish. I will give them protection with a blanket of mulch. And when the weeds and grasses return, as they often do, I will acknowlege them for what they are and pluck them from my patch of earth. There’s no place for them here anymore.

Today I’m a bit sore from my efforts, however I am grateful for the opportunity and the lessons learned.

The garden around my home resembles the garden of my being – a little unkempt with bare spots in need of filling, some flowers growing profusely where they were planted and others moving themselves elsewhere, some thriving when they had seemed all but lost, while others only a memory.

With loving attention and diligence they may both yet bloom.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.