The change of season and change of routine left me feeling depleted by the end of this past week. Summer, my favorite season, stretches ahead, yet I was feeling cranky and stretched way too thin.
No rhythm has yet to arrive in the new days. The sun rises so much earlier now, and the days have lengthened. But instead of feeling more organized and calm with this gift of longer days, I feel chaotic and overwhelmed.
Suddenly, I feel more pressure. I think about my promises to add in a run, practice yoga outdoors, eat lighter fresher meals. I think about them as I plant my garden, mow the rapidly growing lawn, and organize summer schedules. As I pack up the last cold-weather clothing, sort and clean the light summer garb. As I clean winter grimy windows, porch furniture, and the Weber. As I try to adapt my thinking, cooking, and shopping list to new, seasonal foods.
Transformation is hard. Effort must be applied. Even a transformation you’ve looked forward to, like moving into a lush, prana-filled late spring/early summer, can take effort. There is so much I want to do to take advantage of this wonderful season, to take advantage of the strong energy to create real change. I know the change I want. But really, what is the change I need?
After spending a morning in my garden my perspective becomes a little healthier. Digging long rows for beans and corn, I ran into plenty of fat worms and bugs. A whole other world, oblivious to me and my to-do lists and goals, exists beneath my feet. Witnessing this world brings some perspective to my all-important ego. Maybe my plans and goals for the season are not so important. Maybe I need to take a deep breath and let the new season flow into my life at a slower pace.
Patience is required for transformation. My goals for the season and for my life are like the seeds I’m planting in my garden. It will be days, even a couple of weeks, before these seeds I’ve planted germinate and seedlings planted really take off. It will be weeks before this flat, hay-mulched square of land begins to take on color, and a couple of months before I really harvest anything. I need to give all these things, from my new routines to my seeds, the proper time. Then there will be abundance.