Anne Woodman The Shop

Maybe I should have taken a before picture. But the truth (and where I'm going with this metaphor) is, I can't really bear to look at the before for one more second. 

Today I cleaned the shit out of this garden. I mean, I dug up YEARS of dead leaves, sticks, weeds, and bits of trash.

Here's that metaphor:

Today, I found myself grappling with old issues, the same old issues I've struggled with my whole life. Can I ever get to the source and clean it out? Will I ever be able to climb out of this pit? And get far enough away so that I don't fall back in?

Years and years of dead leaves, sharp sticks, dark weeds, dirty trash. 

So today I put one foot in front of the other. One more day. Last day of April. One foot in front of the other. One minute, one hour at a time, just get through one more day. Tackle the chores of the day, one at a time. Slowly.

First chore was the garden. I had been putting it off for days. But putting off really doing it right, getting to the bottom of it, for years. 

It was supposed to rain this afternoon, so I decided to just get it done. Once I started, something came over me. Violently hacking at the Hydrangeas, I was thinking "whatever can't survive this is dead anyway".

And now all the dead is gone. The tiny new green weeds are gone (I respect their desire to live but they were just too small). Had to make room for bigger growth.

Now there is room. For bigger growth. And it didn't rain after all. The sun is out. 


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