October: Seed Wisdom

“You purchase pain with all that joy can give and die of nothing but a rage to live.”

I was an English major before I dropped out of college (the first time) and this quote was stamped to my forehead. Alexander Pope dropped this sick line and I ran with it. I ran so far, I ended up dropping out and moving to another city in a rush. Quickly packed up, quickly found a terrible apartment, quickly changed my plans. Just as quick as I settled in LA, I moved back. Quickly realizing my erratic decision made no sense. For some reason the quote has been echoing in my brain for a few days and I’ve been thinking how little patience I had all those years ago. 

Right now, I sit here so humbled by the plants that surround my garden.

I sit here and think of the rage that lived below the surface, because who knows how it went for the seed. 

The seed looks like petals, leaves,and beautiful vegetables from where I sit. 

But for days, weeks, months, and so many hours it looked like nothing. Those summer days must have baked the Earth and the water seemed never enough. But somehow something grew. 

I don’t have a green thumb, I’m mostly hopeful and stubborn, but the joy that I get for the seed as it sprouts is so earnest. I watered and I kept it taken care of- but the seed is the magic. 

I believe I am only the witness. 

Seasons change, plants grow and die. 

And I am learning from the seed to work, to receive, to simply be a seed, until I’m ready. 

The seed doesn’t rush. 

The days of being existential and devouring English literature are so far behind, the child is gone. 

But I sit here, in my garden patiently waiting for what this next season brings and learning from the seed to trust that I’m purchasing joy this time.

I know someday soon I’ll sprout.