I read a great article written by Rebekah Teal (www.rebekahteal.com) in the Oct/Nov 2011 edition of Mary Jane’s Farm (www.maryjanesfarm.org ) She felt that relocating would make her happier. It wasn’t until her daughter asked her why the family couldn’t just blossom right where they were, that she realized that it doesn’t matter where you are – just that you are there. There aren’t many articles that stick in my memory the way that one did.
I contacted Ms. Teal to ask permission to cite her article in this blog. She graciously granted her permission and, in closing, asked me, “Are you blossoming now? Where are you planted?”
The questions stopped me cold.
Am I blossoming? I wondered. Where am I planted? The obvious answer was, “I live at …” blah, blah, blah. Digging a bit deeper, I discovered a whole new crop of variations and answers.
Where am I planted today?
Where do I want to be planted?
Where should I be planted?
I reflected on the previous day. It started out with me “planted” on the wet grass bottlefeeding our lambs. Then, I was off to muck the stalls and mow the front field. After that, I found myself plunked on the sofa reading with my daughters. An hour later, I was propped at my desk editing a manuscript. That evening, I found myself rooted at a cocktail table surrounded by a group of fabulous writers celebrating the success of a friend’s debut novel ( www.lyndamullalyhunt.com ) At midnight, I found myself lying in my warm bed listening to the silent sounds of our sleeping home… thinking.
I realized that in order to bloom, you have to be solidly planted – not in a particular place but, rather, in a particular moment. Of course, we all fantasize about that dream home – the one on the beach, or overlooking the Seine, or perhaps perched at the top of a mountain. But, that’s why they call them dream homes.
Ms. Teal’s daughter was right. No matter what you do, or where you go, you just can’t blossom unless you can embrace your life – ugly parts and all. When I look around and see everything that I have to be grateful for, I realize that selling the farm and uprooting my family for an unknown destination isn’t what I really need right now. What I need is to slow down long enough to enjoy watching my family blossom – minute by minute, day by day – right where we are.