Well, I am honestly so humbled by the response to my blog thus far. I received some totally genuine and inspiring messages, emails, etc., and I just want to say thank you so much!
I hope that these words continue to touch you in some way, and is, for those who need a boost, a good but gentle reminder that there are a tonne of us battling both anxiety and depression. And suckishly (yeh, that’s not even a word!), a tonne of other crap.
We all have “stuff” going on. Nobody is perfect. Everybody is dealing with something, and everyone goes through shit. Like Plato said, (or was that Maclaren?) “be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”
So, I thought I would add a 14th thing to do when you’re feeling low (See 13 Things to do When Struggling with Anxiety and Depression for the other 13). Drum roll please…plant a garden! I know, I know. Sounds like a tonne of work, right? I don’t have a natural green thumb, either. Not at all. Actually, every plant I have ever owned has died. Ask my sister. Or my friend Meredith who left me with a forest of plants to water while she was on her totally awesome I’m-a-teacher-I-get-the-whole-summer-off holidays. Mind you, I did give her a fair warning.
But. I was willing yesterday to give it a try. Like I said, I’ll try anything once. And because we have a huge backyard, and a green house, Mere came by to plant some veggies and I decided, hey, let me give this thing a try! She’s actually ridiculously good at this stuff.
One time, while trying to describe this girl to my brother I actually said out loud, “yeh, Meredith, she’s a wildflower man.” She’s just that kind of person who makes you remember how to get in touch with the Earth and all things green and beautiful. So, I took her lead, and together we planted a bunch of peppers and tomatoes. Cool right?!
The fresh air did wonders for me.
You know, I totally forgot what soil and dirt smelled like. I forgot what it was like to get dirt under my fingernails.
It’s like somewhere along the way, we grew up, and we forgot. We started thinking we were too cool to keep riding our bicycles, and we forgot. We forgot, and we allowed the novelty of all things that surround us to somehow wear off.
This morning, while sipping my chamomile tea, I can hear the birds singing outside my window. Can you?