Gardening: The Yin to My Yang

I remember studying history when I was young and thinking how odd it was that so many important events in history involved land. Once I became a homeowner and gardener, though, I got it. Owning or even having access to a piece of soil is freedom -- freedom to shelter yourself under a roof on that soil, freedom to lie under the stars on that soil, and freedom to plant seeds and create life and food out of that soil. There are few things more elemental and foundational than  using a piece of earth. Now that I have a little lanai garden of my own, I know I'd go to great lengths to defend it and protect it for the life that is there.
 
My foray into gardening has been mostly an exercise in trial and error.  Although my grandfather was an excellent gardener, I'm sorry to say that I had absolutely no interest in acquiring much of his gardening knowledge and experience while he was alive.  Instead, I read tons of articles on container gardening and vermicomposting.  I suppose these interests can be like seeds that are planted in your mind as a kid and patiently fertilized and watered, sometimes for years, until one day they shoot up and break ground.  It's only been 7 months now, but the numerous trips to purchase garden supplies, seeds, potting mix, and fertilizer make me feel as though I've been doing this for years.  I can't say that I've got a good grasp on anything, but I'm learning to appreciate the process of giving life and care to a living thing rather than desiring the immediate gratification of a final product.  Gardening is cultivating not only my plants but also my patience.  It is the yin to my yang, bringing slowness and reflection into the adventuring, traveling, running, and surfing that had dominated life in my 20s.

Although a part of me longs for the youth, activity, and endless energy of my former life, those same years of stress, pain, and excitement have physically forced me to seek greater balance in my life.  In addition to gardening, I've been doing more art, exploring any dormant creativity waiting to surface.  For a person whose social life depended largely on sharing an active lifestyle with friends, these changes have certainly made for a lonelier existence.  In fact, with a lot less people contact, I have days of wondering whether I really make any meangingful difference on this Earth. I've thought a lot about how I may never be the athlete or adventurer I once was or the mother or Christian I thought I'd be.  But I try to become a better person, accept myself even if I didn't become the person I always thought I'd be, and realize that this life I'm living just might turn out to be better than I'd imagined.