A Reason, A Season Or A Lifetime

Day eight and I am still alive and well.  It is more of a transition to work as a gardener in triple digit heat though we find shady garden areas or lots of leaves to rake when it reaches the pinnacle of the sun's trajectory.  We have to in order to survive.  I drink lots of water and the sweat runs down my face at times just the same.  So, still happy to be working and especially working outdoors in such a peaceful, blessed place.

The hardest part to any new job for me is balancing the idea of being teachable with my own insecurities about being perfect-rather not perfect.  My perfectionism was alive and well in High School when I received a 4.0 GPA my last two years at S.R.H.S. and my B.A. at S.S.U. when I worked full time at night and went to school during the day, surviving on Dr. Pepper and coffee to stay awake.  I graduated with honors just the same.  It is a handicap to have that kind of drive in life though it has brought respect and attention to my threshold, it comes at a price.

And so, now I work as a gardener and I know quite a few things and I am the new girl on campus and I make mistakes or I am just corrected just the same.  I must swallow the directions in broken English and realize that my humility as a gardener is just as important as this journey's trajectory.  The truth does lie within my acceptance of my less than expert position.  I am still, a work in progress.

I am saying farewell to some people who have been my friends for the spring to summer season and that will come to feel better as the days progress.  It is difficult for me to realize that some of my connections with other humans are for a reason or a season. Autumn brings leaves to the grounds around me and also some the the relationships that will naturally retreat to the background. Painful and true at the same time.

I also say farewell to a woman who helped me step back from the brink of death as my government career came to an end.  I was crazed, terrified, angry and unreachable.  This fine woman brought a kind and reassuring presence to me and at times I clung to her as if a ragged piece of wood from a shipwreck at sea without a beacon or a lifeboat or a survivor in sight.  I believe that she saved me from death.  Thank you Sandra, you saved me from myself.