“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.”
― Socrates
If you’re as slow-going into this New Year as I have been, welcome to the club. Facing a year-end birthday and all of the triggers of getting older and feeling purposeless on this planet, I dragged along boxes of tissue into 2014, along with Vick’s VapoRub, decongestive teas, and in lieu of a stick of dynamite to blast out my stone-walling sinuses I was forced to set aside that “To Do List” and just propped up my self-pity-party along with a poor clogged head and scrunched down under piles of blankets and my cuddly cats (and Pete when he came home from work) and just get over this thing. Which I’m happy to say looks like is happening day-by-day. Tissue count is less and less. Spirits lifting. Great book-reading opportunity the best.
So now that my head is slowly clearing and I’m re-focusing on this thing called Life I just wanted to offer you a mental tidbit that is helping me. You know how I learn just about all my lessons from Mama Nature, and so far she hasn’t let me down? Well once again I received a double whammy Lesson from two tubers—“two-bers?” a yam and a sweet potato, which I swear are the same thing and I still don’t know the difference other than their size and color? But anyway, I digress.
I wrote a blog post some time ago—I Yam What I Yam— about the power of a once-about-to-be-tossed-out-worthless yam who got its second wind. Well it happened again. To that very same yam. The little tuber completely exploded with viney greens winding all across the counter top to my delight. And then as it began to wane, its leaves yellowing and falling it looked like The Grim Yam-Reaper had cast the final death knell.
I almost gave in and said my final goodbyes—she had nearly a year’s run after all. But then I stopped. Maybe there’s more to this feisty tuber. Maybe I should give her one more shot. So I planted what looked like a rapidly shriveled shell of a yam with roots still intact, but appearing about as done as a dead yam could look. Bought a pretty ceramic pot and filled it with rich, miracle-growing soil, watered her and put her back in that same, sunshiny place she seemed to like so much. And it worked. In a matter of days there were new buds popping all over the place and then more vines started breathing and stretching out and a new life began from the old one and the one before that.
If there is such a thing as “rein-yam-nation” I was looking at it. And then I did the same thing with another tuber about to end it all. That one has taken over our kitchen looking like something out of “Little Shop of Horrors.” The Lesson learned? Never Give Up HOPE. There is a power within us all—all living beings—that when tended to and nurtured and taken the time to believe in and care for grow strong. Mother Nature teaches over and over again to trust that endings yield beginnings—no matter how they may appear to us. Death is but a passage into new Life. The final shell may disappear, but the spirit, the soul, the essence of that being does live on—like abundant green and joyous vines given another chance to be.
I’m breathing easier now and more than ever determined to not give up on myself, no matter what the chronological age countdown spews back at me. Age has nothing to do with numbers so I’m told in greeting card after greeting card. Yeah, right. But I do know this. When things look and feel helpless, hopeless or futile there is always a powerful force of renewal inside of everything. We can and must start over and “plant” and forever listen to and honor that “voice” within us shouting, “Hey! I Yam still here!” Don’t give up! (And some steamy, breathe-easy-teas help too.)
how wonderful are you my dear loving creative friend!!!!this is so beautiful.thank you dear cb!!!!
Thank you, dearest Kate! Your loving support means the world to me!
Much love!!!!