For the past several days, I have been dealing with a husband in severe pain from osteoarthritis, plantar fasciitis, and back spasms.
I have driven him to Urgent Care, picked up prescriptions, provided him with a walking stick and a cane, set up a heating pad, researched his conditions on the computer, talked him through his exercises, and more. I wish I could do all this without getting cranky. I wish he would follow my advice more, especially when I tell him to see a doctor. But sometimes he’s such a guy.
What I have been doing for him is nothing – at all – compared to what he did for me and how he supported me when I had my last breakdown, which lasted several years. He did everything. Shopping, pet care, cooking, paying bills, earning a paycheck. Not to mention loving me through the despair, irrational thinking, sobbing uncontrollably, immobilization, and all the rest.
He really took that whole “in sickness and in health” thing to heart. Now it’s my turn to do likewise.
I am completely out of spoons. I will carry on anyway. He deserves it.
I know I’m not the first person to make this observation, but lately I’m obsessed with my plants and I think I figured out why. Plants are a microcosm of sorts, life on a tiny scale. Plants come in all different colors and shapes, some do well in heat and some prefer cooler climates. Some flower and produce fruit, others are just there to look good. Each spring I get so excited to start the year’s garden here at the urban farmstead and true to form, I’m already started on purchasing plants.
I never had a green thumb growing up, in fact I hated the idea of getting all dirty and encountering bugs. I still don’t like bugs, but I finally discovered my inner gardener. It started with my old apartment, where I had a window box with some mums that started growing like wildfire. Then when I moved, I planted flower beds along the house, some plants didn’t make it but I discovered I really enjoyed watching them grow and feeling a sense of accomplishment. Fast forward to last summer, my first summer in the urban farmstead and I grew my own tomatoes, peppers and flowers too. I learned a lot about what not to do as far as container gardening goes and I am better prepared to grow my own veggies and just enjoy the process a lot more.
As I was researching what plants would be best in my climate (a ridiculous habit I picked up from my ex fiancee who would research everything for weeks before we ever did anything), I reflected on how raising plants is like living life. Too much of anything can hinder the plants, too little will stifle them. Timing is important and so is making sure the plants are suited to the soil and container. Things of any nature cannot grow if it’s not the right situation. Paying too little attention or too much attention can actually kill a plant, and sometimes things beyond our control cause the plant to die.
Besides teaching me patience and dedication, gardening has helped me realize I’m more self sufficient than I realize. It also helps me realize I have the ability to influence my living situation if only on a small scale. It’s a great hobby to calm me down when I’m feeling manic, taking that time to just literally stop and smell the flowers is great.
Do you have a green thumb or is there another hobby you participate in? Please share in the comments!
Filed under: Wellness Warriors Tagged: eco, green thumb, hobbies, self sufficiency, urban farmstead