Today I spent fifteen minutes in my garden, plucking weeds from betwixt and between the tiny sprouts of lettuce and spinach. I hadn’t intended to weed but when I walked past my modest patch on the way to feed the birds, lo! Little lettuces and spinach poking up! Locked in earthy combat with weeds!
It was mid-March when I planted these seeds. Two varieties of lettuce: “Deer Tongue” and “Sweet Valentine.” The spinach is “Long Standing Bloomsdale.”
I’ve been racking my writerly brains for a Sweeping Metaphor about how the mid-March Lesley who planted the seeds connects to and embodies the early-May Lesley; how the history-making weeks between these manifests some great Insight or Truth.
I got nothin’. I can’t do better than observing that seeds hew to their innate seed-ness with quiet grace and aplomb. So I’m following their lead, trying my best to hew to what feels innate to me and to act with quiet grace and a soupçon of aplomb.
So far this includes
feeding the birds, and
painting teeny tiny watercolors every day.
This is enough for now.
May you, too, find a daily act … and manifest it with grace and aplomb.