Connecting with Mother Earth

"I want to touch the earth. I want to break it in my hands. I want to grow something wild and unruly." (Cowboy Take Me Away by the Dixie Chics)

A line from one of my favorite songs. I may later blog about other lyrics to this song--the whole thing inspires me. But today, I'm attached to this very first sentiment in the song. I have been spending some time in our designated garden space, turning the soil, adding the compost, monitoring the sun that hits our spot at different times of the day, more filtered by our growing trees than anticipated. This is our little postage stamp of land on this great Earth. To pick up a clump of that red clay and watch it crumble, then mix it with what used to be our morning fruit or the veggies the kids wouldn't eat but is now dark, moist soil, I'm making it better. I'm creating an environment that will in turn produce fruit and vegetables for us to eat (if the sun hangs a little higher in the sky as summer approaches). Working in the garden, cleaning up the wooded area in my backyard, and managing the vine that crawls across my deck makes me feel connected to Mother Earth and connected to my true self.

This vine that I speak of that invades my back deck is incredible. I LOVE it. I call it my fourth child. Once spring hits it's dry, brown coils magically turn bright green--and it starts crawling. It has devoured the railing of the deck. It has crushed several tiki torches that had the misfortune of being placed along it's path. It is WILD and it is UNRULY and it is wonderful.



It takes work. I have to go out there and train it to go to acceptable places. After paying it no attention for a few days, it has been know to wrap it's legs around the porch furniture. I am constantly having to free my wind chimes that get smothered by it's unsupervised growth. And this vine is tough. I can yank and tug to break up masses that form in order to redirect individual sprouts. It doesn't care. I think it likes the attention! It stays green and keeps moving.

As I was out there today I drew the comparison between this vine and my three other children. They are occasionally wild and sometimes unruly. They are free thinkers and complete individuals. They bring me great and abounding JOY. They frustrate me at times with their stubbornness and their aggressive behavior. They creep around sneakily and take hold of what strikes their fancy. They see what is right in front of them, not looking beyond toward any final destination. Their energy is palpable.

I wonder if I was like this as a child. I hope that my mother reads this and maybe even posts a comment. I know I challenged her, was sometimes hard to tame, took my own path regardless of which way she and my father were directing me to go. Did I inspire her as my children inspire me?

There is something about the green of this spring vine--the color speaks of newness, naivete, freshness, hope. I wish that we could all see this in the young people around us. I truly wish that we could all see this in ourselves. As Bob Dylan said, "He who's not busy being born is busy dying." That vine just goes dormant for a few months out of the year, but it always comes back, searching for the unfound, eager to explore new territory, vibrant with life.

I wish that for all of us.

peace, love, and being "fresh"~