Play In The Dirt.

Every spring the dreaded moment comes when I see the dump truck back down my driveway to deliver the three (which always feels like six) acres of mulch.

“Why don’t I just pay someone to do this?” I think to myself every.single.year.

After a day or two of pouting over the amount of work it is to spread the mulch around all of the flower beds - by myself - or with my children helping which is still basically by myself…

I finally start the dreaded task.

I never wear gardening gloves and occasionally don’t even bother with shoes. In a life that is often controlled and planned and put together this task inevitably takes over as cathartic release of all of the normal adulting and I find the space to breathe that I need.

My hands get dirty. My back hurts. My body is sweaty.

But whether the sun is shining bright or there is a cleansing light rain when I decide to tackle this annual project, somewhere in the middle of it I realize I am simply playing in the dirt.
Adult style.

The earthy smell fills my nose as I kneel there on the ground smoothing out the large piles with my naked hands.

I am playing in the dirt while tending to my home, while making my home beautiful and alive again after a long winter.

The truth is I don’t like gardening that much - and I am not very good at it which is surprising given my Mother has a green-thumb that deserves to be in a Home and Garden magazine.
I NEED gardening.

Somehow life never seems to go as planned. While I am slowly (while kicking and screaming) learning to embrace the guaranteed derailment of every plan I make, I need to have an external validation in my ability to make something beautiful.

I garden to remind myself that everything grows and blooms in its own time.

I garden to remind myself that sometimes the soil needs to be changed, or the peony needs an extra year before its ready to bloom, or sometimes the animals are going to eat the vegetables and you just have to start again.

I garden to remind myself that just because I am in an adult body, my heart and soul is still young. I need dirt. I need fresh air. I need exploration. I need silence (save the birds) to let my mind run wild with dreams and fantasy.

So, this year, as I begin my annual mulch adventure, I am taking a little extra time with gratitude in my heart for the ability to play in the dirt - adult style.
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May spring also bring you a sense of aliveness, youth and wonder in the middle of your grown-up chores.