A galactic love ... a simple garden ...

Once upon a time, you ruled my universe.  You were my sun, my stars, my galaxy.  I got lost in the heat, the passion, the craziness of it all.  I was an ever-expanding star, glowing in the warmth of what I thought was love.

When you left, I felt like a supernova that had collapsed into a black hole: devoid of emotion, of feeling, of life.  Slowly, bit by bit, I have been reawakening, finding a new orbital path and a reason to shine again.

The best gift you gave me was the gift of freedom.  Freedom to find out who I am, who I want to be, and what I have to do to get there.  It's going to take time, to be sure, but I'm learning to love the journey.  And since I'm not lost in space anymore, I've found focus around something much smaller and more meaningful.

As it turns out, the best things in life require patience and love.  I'm sure many of you knew that already, but we all find our own truths in our own time, right?!  But think about it: we are patient with our children, with our gardens, with our friends and loved ones.  Why should it be any different with yourself?  If you are really going to fully develop to your true potential, it will take time and effort, and it's a labor of love. 

Creating yourself is like planting a perennial garden.  Each year, you add new plants, some that thrive in shade, some that grow best in sun.  Some plants die, and some plants just need a little TLC to make it through a drought. This year, I am planting seeds of patience and self-love, while I continue to nurse along my intellectual side and prune back the sarcasm.  Giggling with my kids has become the sunshine that all the plants need, while my running is the wind that gently rustles the dead leaves from the plants, allowing room for new growth.

We can't rush headlong into half-cooked plans, relationships, or ventures.  To do so is to put the garden at risk, as if to introduce a new plant without knowing its eventual height or growing space.  Sometimes that plant has to be ripped out, leaving a hole in the soil...but it's a hole that will be filled with the right plant for the garden--one that will complement the overall beauty without detracting from any of the individual other plants.  Synergy and balance must be sought in order to achieve peace in our gardens: children, a significant other, family, friends, and hobbies. 

Like those sunflower fields we saw in South Dakota last summer on our motorcycle trip, with their sunny seed-filled faces turned toward the sun, I am turning myself toward the warmth I need to grow.

I am not meant to stand on the sun or float among the stars; I am but just a girl. Instead, I will stand under the sun and grow.