Work is getting to me. I feel unappreciated and irrelevant. My friends don’t seem to particularly care about any of my thoughts, my hobbies, or my accomplishments. My dreams and aspirations feel like dead ends. I feel like hope is dying.
When there is no mechanism by which I can figure out the purpose of my existence, it feels pointless. I garden.
My purpose becomes: weed these three square feet.
My purpose becomes: deadhead this bush.
My purpose becomes: trim this rose.
There is no other item on the immediate agenda, and its purpose is self-evident. I have time not to think about the things that are bothering me. I disconnect from the annoyance, hurt, or abandonment, and just do. Gardening, like many wonderful acts of manual labor and physical creativity, gives our minds the ability to not only know exactly what we are doing right now, but it also gives us the ability to say at the end of that time, “I did XYZ.”
Pick up gardening.
Try woodworking.
Draw, paint, or do chalk designs for the rain to wash away.
Learn how to lay stone walls.
Carve a dog into a bar of soap with a butter knife.
Find yourself a hands-on hobby that can take you away from things, and let you find that focus.
Gardening is mine.
What’s yours?
Comments