Gardening as Therapy

Everyone has days like today, when you feel like you're dragging your feet with every step. You don't want to do anything and life feels pointless. You just want out. You want change. You want something new. You want to be happy. And then you realize you CAN be happy. You just have to allow it.

Since I've had these tomato plants on my porch for the past week or so, I've spent a couple hours taking care of them. I now know why pesticides are so popular. It takes a great deal of attention and time to keep a plant pest-free. The nice thing is that, for me, taking care of the plants and killing every little Sucker bug that is on them is somehow therapeutic. I don't have to think about much, but I can think about anything. I am helping the plants live better, and somehow it is helping me live better.

I was able to hold a real conversation while doing it. Normally I cannot hold a conversation while I am doing anything else. But this small act of gardening is like a time of meditation. It's a time of caring for the earth and giving back and being productive.

It is bearing fruit.

Natural

It's interesting to me how many random people call Jared and I "nature people" or "outdoor people." A friend that I don't remember ever really talking to about our relationship said so, and an event coordinator recognized it, too. I'm not sure what it is they observe that leads to that conclusion, but I like it.

We want to have our wedding outdoors. Indoors would be stifling and it would not suit us. The significant points in our life have happened out of doors. We must continue in that way. It is only fitting for the start of our life together to happen in nature. After all, our relationship is very natural, too.

Finding the right place has been difficult. We want it to be simple. We want trees. We want real. No fences, no railings, no plastic. Wood and greenery and sky and water.

Life. Love.

Bluebonnets

Yesterday held another geocaching adventure for Jared and I. And what perfect weather for an afternoon outside! We went to Prospect Park this time, which is where we went on our first date.

The first cache turned out to be a birdhouse. It was so obvious that I pointed it out and continued to look for the "real" cache without actually looking in it. We spent probably 15 minutes searching the area for something else before I decided to look inside it. Ta da.

Deeper in the park, there was another cache or two. I was too distracted by mosquitoes to really keep track. I know that I found one hidden in a crazy tree. The GPS had a hard time getting us close to that one because of all the tree cover.

Then we went on to find one that was labeled "Bluebonnets" in the GPS. Usually, they have names like NG1067 or something, but this one was different for some odd reason. I kept going toward the coordinates and landed in an area full of bluebonnets. An odd place to put a cache, I thought, because the bluebonnets aren't there all year long and the only other place to hide anything would be in some of the cactus. So I was poking around trying to see if there was anything there, without success.

I came back around to a spot Jared had been looking at and found an orange matchstick container. As I opened it, I saw that there was a piece of paper tucked inside. While I pulled it out and began to unfold it, I was thinking that it might be one of those caches that's part of a chain, so it would give us clues/coordinates for the next one and the next, etc. I was wrong, but no less delighted! In the middle of unfolding the paper, Jared got down on his knee and waited for me to realize what the paper said. "Will you marry me?" he asked.

Yes! Of course! YES! I love you! We're getting married!

Getting started

Angela and I spent some time brainstorming about how we could make a presentation about gardening for the class. We decided we would buy some seeds and get them started and then share them with the class.

Our plans changed.

As we drove toward Lowe's, I noticed a "Plant Sale! Fri. 10-6" sign outside of the Agriculture building on Sessoms. In a split-second decision, we pulled in, spent $5.63, and walked out with about 15 tomato plants! They were very cheap because they needed to be repotted - they were too big for the planters they were in.

Talk about saving time for us! We didn't have to wait for them to grow. We just have to wait for them to bloom. Some have already flowered. The guy selling them told us a little about what to look out for and how to take care of the plants. We decided that we should share that information with the class. We're going to bring the plants to school and let students take them home if they want to, or it will be a donation to our community garden.

Refuge

This was a really good book. It was a quick read, in my opinion, but nonetheless profound in its sentiments. Throughout, it impressed upon me how very much Westerners struggle to let nature take its course. As with the Great Salt Lake, we try to come up with our own solutions for every 'bad' thing that comes our way. Why can't any of these natural disasters just be natural? Why must we prevent them?

The difficulty is that I haven't had personally devastating experiences related to natural disasters. Or to death, for that matter. The stigma for these two things go hand in hand. So who am I to say that we should just let it happen?

I experienced death the most closely this past Thanksgiving. In Nacogdoches, at Jared's grandparents' house, we sat and stroked Jared's dog's back for hours, while he refused to eat even his favorite food. Hershey hadn't been doing well for a while. He had collapsed upon arrival in Nacogdoches.

On Thanksgiving Day, we took him to the vet to see what was wrong with him. He would hardly move, his breathing was slow and he hadn't eaten for too long. It turned out to be a liver problem. His body was attacking itself. He wouldn't make it much longer. There were a few options. 1) Do a blood transfusion that would be expensive and dangerous for a dog Hershey's age. 2) Let this disease run its course. 3) Euthanize him.

Jared's family struggled to decide that it was best to let the pain end and euthanize him. While we waited for preparations to be made and for the doctor to return, Hershey took his final breath. With a meaningful glance and a twitch, he passed away.

I felt that it was a wonderful way to die. It wasn't necessarily easy to deal with, but the family was able to be there with him in his last moments and said their goodbyes. They didn't kill him and they didn't try to prolong his life. Nature took its course. It was a dignified way to die.

That said, I think Americans could use more exposure to natural death. I think that a lot would change if we became comfortable with our mortality and allowed ourselves and our loved ones to pass on. We are so afraid of loss that we will do anything to prevent it. But by preventing it, other problems arise such as outrageous medical bills, lack of job circulation, and everything that goes along with an ever-increasing population.

In order to accept death, we must also accept that science and technology cannot save us. We must learn to look at the long-term consequences of science and technology before we allow their innovations to reign over us.

Jared and I went out on his motorcycle again today. Despite the more windy roads on the way to Wimberley, I felt much more comfortable on this ride because had I learned that I didn't have to hang on for dear life the whole time. I got to sit back and enjoy the breeze and the view.

I was very glad that Jared had downloaded geocaches into his GPS because we didn't find the "Market Day" that we wanted to go to. And I wasn't very interested in the shops "downtown." I think this was the first time I had been geocaching outside of familiar territory (although it is in the nature of geocaching that you will leave familiarity...). By following the GPS, we found a nature preserve that we would never have seen otherwise. That was my first experience really finding a new special place while geocaching.

Of course, we didn't simply follow the path set before us. We explored around the river a little bit and went past a "Private Property" sign on the waterfront. We crossed the river and found the last cache for the day hidden amongst some large rocks that enable explorers to climb up from the river level to the street level. Unfortunately, as Jared was reaching for the cache, he stepped on a stick that turn up and poked him in the eye. It was undoubtedly unpleasant, but he recovered well and we had a nice ride home back to Kyle for some amazing Mexican food and a night off.

The Mountain

Just off of 360 in Austin, there's a place I've been going to for several years. We lovingly call it "The Mountain." It's not much of a "mountain," per se, but you do have to climb to reach the top, and my grandma sure couldn't do it.

Following Jared's curiousity, we stayed at the bottom of The Mountain and went down. It turns out there is a stream there. He walked into the tunnel beneath the road until he could no longer see. It was too bad that he didn't have a flashlight and I didn't have better shoes. He came back out and we continued following the stream.

It goes a long way in! It was narrow at many points, so we were able to cross back and forth several times. We stumbled across a "discarded object," we'll say, and laughed it off. Eventually, we came to a small waterfall. Jared got himself distracted trying to move some stuff that was blocking the flow of the water in a place where it had become stagnant. I, on the other hand, climbed some things to find a good point of observation and reflection. We live our gender roles out very well in nature, I think. He being utilitarian and I being appreciative.

We took separate paths for a while. I found the "beginning" of the stream was again coming through a tunnel system. It was a challenge to meet back up with him. There was a jungle I had to master and lots of cobweb-like things in my way. I was very itchy and sweaty by the time I found Jared again, but I was having fun.

It took us quite some time to get out of there after that. We walked up toward the top of The Mountain (much easier on this hillside than on the rocky path that we usually take) and found a fence blocking our way. Rather than backtracking, we went on until we found a way through. We took our time exploring and enjoying the view of Lake Austin and eventually headed out after creating a bouquet of flowers in my hair and tying a string around my finger.

'Twas a lovely afternoon.