Spring Reflections of Cheesy Sayings

“You grow through what you go through.”

“Rain makes the flowers grow.”

“Plants are patient.”

“It takes time for good things to grow.”


… I could go on. You know the likes of them— inspirational cheesy sayings and idioms. Pretty words to put on a pretty poster. They are actually sweet, when you pause to think deeply about them. 


I’ve been gardening a lot lately. My husband and I built a greenhouse during “spring” in Central Oregon (basically a continual drizzle of snow and hail, this year) and it brought me new life. If you have been following me on Instagram, the proof of my obsession shows there— haha. Being in a space we created and filling it with earth, plants, and light is soul food. I have been watching, watering, waiting, and wowing over my seedlings go from nothing to plants with multiple leaves. Recognizable leaves like tomatoes, dill and cilantro! The satisfaction of growing and filling space with green, living, moving things is amazing. I’ve grown a lot with my little plant babes, too. 


And that’s where these cheesy sayings are actually totally… right. The patience you grow among your seedlings is a daily reminder each time I walk into the greenhouse and stare deep into the soil for a speck of green. I find myself inventing so many tasks to keep myself busy and work in the greenhouse for mornings or evenings at a time because I was in my element. I mist all the soil blocks, seedlings, and plants. I plant more and more and more seeds. I keep a journal where I keep track and notate happenings like plantings, germination times, temperatures, weather, and more. I recently transplanted rapidly expanding squash and zucchini vines. I realized I’m not terrible at gardening. I learned I planted WAY too many tomato seeds and have to transplant 50+ tomato plants. I learned that when you’re intimately caring for something, its success feels so personal. I grew with my little seedlings in confidence and contentment. 

The pride and joy that comes with it feels like I transformed into a sage yoga instructor or something— I feel zen and steady when I’m with my plants. In a world that constantly tries to steal your joy and make you play the comparison game, I invite you to garden. I can continue with the gardening idioms about how I’ve been breaking through my soil and reaching for the sun, but I’m sure you’ve got the point. In our current age of society, it’s so easy to become impatient. I hate to admit it, but I’m quick to compare. Myself to another artist. My running goals and training compared to another athlete. How I feel I’m spending my time compared to what someone else posts on their stories (cause, who knows what the reality is!). I have not compared my plants and greenhouse to anyone else, though. And so, I start my days there when I can, reminding myself that I sowed these seeds. I watered them daily. I’ve tracked their germination and other notes like the biologist I am. I’m so proud of my plants and myself. Starting in the greenhouse has been setting the tone for patience, joy, and satisfaction each day. 


I hope you can find your greenhouse— figurative or physical— to grow. It’s a magical place to learn such lessons, and I didn’t expect I’d write a profound blog post about it when I drew up the blueprints back in February. That was the first ‘seed’ I planted— the belief that I could plan something using Procreate, the Pythagorean Theorem (roof pitches are tough!) and some dreaming. Those seeds grew into confidence as my husband and I nailed each 2x4 together and created something beautiful. Then, more seeds of patience and competence were planted when I actually got my hands in soil and planted my precious seeds. A little bit of my time each day has been dedicated to these plants (and our chicks that are now adolescent chickens). Just like I dedicated a little time to journaling and taking care of myself each day. A little bit of time doing running exercises to become stronger and healthier. A little bit of time learning new skills, planning, and growing my business. The best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. The next best time is now.


 I’m very grateful for all my reflections and realizations in this greenhouse (where I’m typing this, currently). Our souls seek symbiosis— the balance of being content, thankful, joyful, etc. It’s pretty hard in a world where we share our lives and run our businesses on social media. Go easy on yourself and plant a seed. Literally and figuratively. Happy spring, friends!

Stay wild,

Abi

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