Let me explain. I am in the middle of my end of year projects. For days I have been purging files. I have already cleared and shredded a 2 foot high pile of papers and check stubs. Aside: I smoked for 39 years and ever one of these papers is has the stink of smoke. This makes the task nasty. Oh, and I am not letting myself go into nostalgia mode. I am so pleased when I have this kind of clarity during purging. It pays to turn to this kind of project at the right time, as anyone who has gotten lost in reminiscence instead of clearing knows.
Having just applied for social security, I am focused on a whole new chapter in my life. I am done with my career in facility planning and interior design. I am done with my own dreams of building a consulting business. Serving the rich (the only market for my skills) is the last thing on earth I want to do. So, this indeed sounds like a ritual of growth, right? It is, but it isn't the one I am writing about this morning. It is related because I had a dilemma in the midst of my paper shredding. I filled a barrel with shredded paper and borrowed a couple more. My plan is to have shredded paper for my wormery, the park compost / wormery and the elementary schools upcoming compost demonstrations. (I adore the idea of feeding worms sensitive, private paperwork.) So, I needed more barrels and bags.
I went searching and found a barrel in the garden filled with black plastic bags full of dried horse manure. I emailed the woman who had secured the manure and asked if I could spread it on the garden so that I could have the bags. She urged me on. I switched gears and turned to the garden work. Some neighbors had laid out two large black plastic sheets weighted with stones and pavers to kill weeds and pathogens. I folded them up and put them away in a shed before opening each bag and raking the manure across the whole garden. I was sweating buckets, but I secured a bunch of bags and the barrel for my mountain of paper shreds.
Shorty after I finished we had rain! The first rain of the autumn was a real surprise (she says thinking of the two loads of laundry I had hanging), but a delicious treat. I felt that the garden was beckoning me to sow seeds in the newly fertilized and moistened earth. Then I remembered I'd awakened the night before with the bright light of the nearly full moon. Well, there you go. I didn't need a coven of sister witches to tap me on the shoulder. I went to bed knowing I'd awake pre-dawn to a full moon. I did wake with a grin. I threw on clothes, grabbed the can of clover seeds donated by another gardener neighbor and walked by the light of the moon to our community garden. The stillness felt sacred. I repeated words of lifting, life and blessing. I stood in the moonlight and envisioned the green abundance of clover to come. It felt so extraordinary I had to sit down and record it. I am still smiling.
Image credit, How Plants Work blog