Fifty Then Tea

Mum was a social worker. It was a part-time job, but she was never home before 3.30 in the afternoon. Usually she just had enough time to make herself a hefty mug of black tea and get herself into her garden, before us kids would arrive back from school. 
We would all flop & deflate in our different ways, from the pressures of our day, and she’d be heading off into the garden to do her ’50’. She’d arrive at some part of our large, untamed garden and get to work pulling out fifty weeds and leaving them on a nearby path, before heading indoors to prepare tea for our tribe. 

While I was busy in my garden yesterday, this memory came floating back. I was now engrossed in my own overgrown flowerbeds, nails full of soil, picking my way gingerly around stinging nettles, back aching and making painfully slow progress. On occasions, I found myself having a conversation with my mother whenever I was unsure about whether something was a weed or not. “Does it go or should it stay mum....I just don’t know?” In my mind I knew she would know what had had its day and needed removing, and what needed greater space to grow so it could flourish. 

A mix of discernment and quiet knowing.
 

This has been a summer of inner weeding for me and reflecting on what life is teaching me. It’s been a time of inner drifting & making sure not to arrive; of cutting myself some slack and staying observant & curious to the emotions that have arisen; of delighting in travels in the south of France, making new friends and trying to allow myself to open to the life I’ve kept myself from entering, up til now. I’ve started to become aware that things are not always what they seem to be and many old ways of viewing myself, my work and others are past their sell by date. By this I mean becoming aware of habitual mindsets that produce little fruit. 

I’ve challenged myself to stay more in the moment and not be constantly be in a state of anticipation of the next moment, the next day, or the next iteration. After years of discarding feedback from my body, I’ve begun to listen to it and tap into its higher wisdom - a very new experience for me.

Fear about the future, or time spent fretting about the past, never made for a sweeter, more peaceful journey, but it's a path so easily defaulted to. Tough events will come and go. We will feel lost and then found. Our art and creativity will be acknowledged, seen and valued and then will appear invisible and worthless. The vista before us will appear glorious and cloud-free, then all we see is our feet, as we trudge through the rain. But everything will pass.

When I weed my garden I can’t believe the crazy amount of pleasure it brings at the end of the day. Maybe it reveals my controlling nature, or maybe it's also about the process of discerning, sorting and simplifying that feels somehow healing. When the clearing is done I can see what I’m actually looking at and I know what’s important to me. It’s the same when making art and making life - we curate, we shape, we decide on what matters most. With discernment switched full ON, we can make decisions that reflect who we are and why we’re here. Discernment puts us in touch with our quiet inner voice and helps perspective to return and LOVE to lead us forwards.

“If you want to live life free, go slow.
Do few things, but do them well...”.
- St Francis

Love Jane x