Do Something Small for Large Results


I planted these today.  I have been stuck in a shadow place since I have been back.  I am very sad about my mother.  She is stable right now and the urinary tract infection is gone.  The whole process of saying goodbye was very difficult. 

My Mom in the hospital

I miss her and wish I could see her everyday, every weekend, every other weekend, just see her.  This sadness has stumped my creativity. 

 
I also am trying to adjust to life back on the East Coast.  I feel people are much more closed off on the East Coast. I miss friendly smiles and sunsets I can always drive just a couple of minutes to see a complete view of the majestic sky exploding colors and contrasts. 

56 West -- Open Heart Open Skies -- Photo by memomuse

Here in Eastern North Carolina, I often drive in circles trying to find an open field to see the sunset. I am trying to embrace “Bloom Where You Are Planted.”  Whenever I go back home (Wyoming and Colorado) – I yearn for the landscape, as if it is phantom pain in my heart.  Throbbing, beating, asking for open spaces to open my heart. 

 So I did something small today and it provoked some creativity and a desire to work on some of my creative projects.  I am currently working on refining a book proposal for The Original Journal and developing a line of memomuse greeting cards.  I have released my first card and it is available at The Flower Pot, located at 111 Barnes Street  in downtown Wilson, NC and also at My Cutie Patootie, also downtown Wilson, NC. I had been soaking these plants you see in the picture above in water for several weeks, perhaps straggling on a month or more. 
 
I had every intention to replant them as the roots had come in, but I did not have the motivation.  Something so small seemed so very large.  Laundry piled up, dusty balls of dog fur piled up and my motivation still lay flat on the floor.  But today, I made myself pot those plants.  As I sniped off dead leaves, I snarled at what a free time geek I am that this is actually what I am doing, instead of writing chapters for my novel, designing more cards, etc. etc.  Just your basic new to the stay at home mom self-inflicted guilt game.  As if I should be more productive than simply taking care of a home and a one year old.  I am still adjusting to not working full-time outside the home.  After my son was born, I had a four month maternity leave because of summer vacation.  I then went back to work (4th grade teacher) and worked from August to December.  I resigned my job effective the last day before Christmas vacation.  
 
But something shifted once those plants found some soil for their stringy, reaching for earth, roots.  They got themselves a happy home now on my kitchen windowsill.  To remind me that something simple can evoke something large.  So now I have a new batch , waitin’ for roots to emerge, waiting for soil to cling and surround their energy and ability to grow. Plants growing bouyant roots, buoyant water gives them life and time to emerge tendrils.  This is something I am embracing — giving myself time to grow roots in North Carolina.  Even though I am not under the big blanket of sky out West. 

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It is forever West in my heart.  Just a tiny step manifested into something bigger, more beautiful than the sadness that is staining my bleeding heart. 

My mom is the beautiful redhead on the right with the glasses

My mother taught me about gardening. 

A garden was everywhere I turned - this is our backyard. That's me with my foot out on the right.

My dad in our patio garden - Do you see the spider plants hanging?

My father did, as well, but she says, “He started gardening because I did.”  Whatever it may be – both my parents taught me the beauty and bounty of a garden full, inside and outside.  I remember there was always a hanging plant inside the house, in fact, there were always dozens of them, basking in the light from the front living room open air window panes, three by three by three, rectangular in their geometric beauty.  Spider plants always danced in the morning sun.  Flowers were always abundant in our outside front yard and backyard gardens. 

 
There is magic in gardens.  In putting a tiny seed into the great Mother Earth and watching it grow, slowly, then electrically, it seems to dance in a breeze and then blooms giant colors so vibrant and curved. 
 
So, I encourage you to do something small, with the intention it will ignite something large.  It could be a great big song in your heart you sing to your child that starts with just a tiny little hum.  Or perhaps you plant some tiny seeds in a patch of garden and come mid summer you eat the ripe fruit or smell the fresh flower.  Giant hope starts with the same tiny hands of hope.  You are beautiful, small or large. 

memomuse being a writer poet (my inner child still sits on this bridge to think)

Just be.

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6 thoughts on “Do Something Small for Large Results

  1. It is difficult to be transplanted in a foreign soil. I so understand the sentiment of the psalmist who proclaims, “by the waters of Babylon there we sat down and wept when we remembered Jerusalem.” How does a sunflower grow in the shade? How does a hydrangea survive in a desert? When I drive into Eastern NC I become claustrophobic, the trees so tall, the ground so flat. I long for the hills of Little Rock and the open plains of Oklahoma where rainbows can be traced from horizon to horizon.

    It is so difficult to span the distance between loved ones without so much as a human touch. Though technology has helped us to hear and to see, it does not fulfill our tactile drive to hold, to hug, to say goodbye.

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    • @Sonia,
      Beautiful squared right back at you. So wonderful to connect with you on facebook. Thank you for the encouraging adjectives.

      Like

  2. I don’t where to start.Please excuse typoes and errors in punctuation I am trying to get this all down fast before I lose my train of thoughts. I stumbled upon your comment to a post by somebody on Stumbleupon, by Ira Glass; “Nobody tells you this when you are a beginner”.
    I like to read peoples comments, not all or always but I read yours and something about it made me click on your link. I wanted to hear about your goodbye to your Mother. Then I’m reading about you meeting that woman Kathy who prayed to St. Therese and I am struck by the fact that not only do you both share the same birthday but it is one of my older sister’s birthday and is also the day our much loved brother died four years ago.
    I continued reading because I wanted more of an update on your Mother, (partly because I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye while my Mother was still lucid before she died). Then I’m reading about the plane incident with the woman who wanted you to move your feet on the plane (which I really enjoyed), I carry on, skimming through parts until the word Asperger’s nearly leaps off the page. I have felt out of step with the rest of planet most of my life and especially when having to be social. I am 52 years old and only just this past winter got a diagnosis after going back to school to study art and finding myself completely overwhelmed by the entire experience, too many things to list here. I went to the College’s Accessability and Disability Services who set me up with a psychologist for testing. I had suspected years ago I was on the Autism Spectrum but probably considered high functioning. My point? I read once, by somebody who had much experience with people with Asperger’s, that is you think you have Asperger’s, you probably do.
    Thank you for sharing your comment on the site I stumble on. I have bookmarked your site. ❤

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    • @ Heather,
      I’m glad you found this blog. Tjhank you for your comments. I think a lot of artists, writers, and creatives have felt like you have: “…out of step with the rest of planet most of my life and especially when having to be social.”

      I do not have Asperger’s, but I can relate to how you feel. I’m happy to hear your college offers resources for you.

      Very interesting about March 28 and your comments in regards to “The Red Rose of St. Therese.” I am so sorry to hear you had to burry your brother. How heartbreaking to lose a sibling on a day you celebrate a sibling’s birthday. My heart goes out to you.

      I really love that quote by Ira Glass that was on that blog. I think her blog is called “artistmotherwriter.” Thatnks again for stopping by. I am posting an update about my mother today.

      Like

  3. Pingback: My Christmas Eve Angel — My Mother « memomuse's Blog

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