Waking up exhausted is a defeating way to start the day. I mean, I never wake up feeling good, and hardly ever experience moments at any time of the day that aren’t tinged by fatigue, but waking up exhausted is the worst.
You might wonder why I don’t stay in bed or go back to sleep. I know in theory it makes sense, but in practice it just doesn’t work for me.
I can’t sleep during the day. I do spend hours at a time lying still with my eyes closed, but sleep doesn’t ever come.
On my most exhausted days, rest can even be difficult. My symptoms seem to rise and fall like waves, so when I feel worse, everything is worse. More pain, more dizziness, more fogginess and more anxiety.
The day stretches out long and hopelessness starts to seep in around the edges.
Hopelessness is my worst enemy. I picture it kind of like an endless pit with tarry mud coating the sides. Even on the very edge, the mud is heavy and hard to escape, it coats you, pulls you down
Fortunately, there’s always a rope.
Sometimes the rope’s hard to find. It’s buried a little and camouflaged in the muck, but it’s always there. The challenge is to keep looking for it.
The rope is tied to life beyond the pit. It whispers that everyday won’t be like today. It smells of lemon verbena and lavender and even though I’m exhausted, it’s warm and soft in my hand.
Today, the rope reminded me that it’s almost spring and it’s time to bring new life into the world. (No, I definitely don’t mean a baby.)
There are few things in the world that feel more hopeful to me than newly sprouted plants, pushing their way up through the dirt seeking the light. Reminding me that spring is coming, that everyday has a little more light. A little less darkness.
Today, I planted snapdragons, and marveled at their seeds that are so tiny they are barely a speck in my hand. A miracle when that speck leads to a bushy plant full of vibrant flowers spikes.
I planted ground cherries, (even though it’s technically too early). In the last few years, ground cherries have become my favourite plant to grow. They’re reliable, hardy and offer up golden berries wrapped in paper lanterns all August and September.
I planted peppers, both sweet and hot. My favourite garden vegetable (ok, tied with carrots, but I can’t see any reasonable way to start them right now.), I love all of the colours they offer up, like a bouquet of flavours.
It only half filled my tray, but it was all the energy I could muster. I tucked the planting tray on my heating pad (set to low), with the plastic dome keeping the heat and moisture in.
I already want to check on them to see how they’re doing.
Tomorrow, I’ll plant more and by next week, little rows of baby sprouts will be greeting me in the mornings. My grow lamps will be glowing with purpose throughout the day.
I offer my seeds water, soil and light. They offer me purpose, nutrients and hope. Together we wait to see what the changing of the season will bring.
