Go Big or Go Bust: On Going With The Goddam Flow

With everything that’s behind and ahead of me in wanting to get this pilot in front of the right people, I’m pin balling through every phase of the emotional wringer.

And then early Saturday morning, I had a dream. It was just around daybreak when a person’s lucky to be able to get back to sleep, much less have a dream.

A 20-something, Middle Eastern-looking woman and I were talking in the hall of a building at 14th St and 8th Avenue. There was nothing fancy about the way she looked or dressed but she radiated a beautiful strength and confidence. She mentioned that she meditated two or three times a day for an hour each time and was cutting back on the people she sees. She mentioned that ‘Henry Fun’, who is dying, is one of them. It felt like I was not someone she’d be making time for.

And so I drifted off in thought, thinking about what a pity it is that I’m not a sitting meditation person, that this is obviously why she’s so strong and confident and I’M NOT. And suddenly, I remembered something I was supposed to be doing and let out a whole body cry of frustration.  

She looked at me with a look of wonder and horror, as if to say: “How old ARE you, anyway? THREE?”

In that flash, I got it, something I’ve been struggling with for decades. This is what self-will run riot looks like and I don’t have to fall victim to it anymore. I can let go. I can get into the darn river and go with the goddam flow.

Go Big or Go Bust: Day 178 (Lesson from the Garden - on self-will run riot and the fear of being a cheapskate)

Last year, the first year of having a vegetable garden, I treated it like a sculpture.  The orderly weeded rows were so pretty I didn't want to disturb anything by picking it.  I knew people visited other friends' gardens and came away with bags of vegetables and it gave me an uncomfortable feeling - that I might actually be a tightwad.  But I pushed that thought back down where it came from and reassured myself that I'd effortlessly join the ranks of the generous in August, when we had things to share. 

Showing you some sugar snap peas, and there are plenty more behind my head, too.

Weeks turned into months as I weeded the summer away, enjoying the silence and the satisfaction of feeling even dandelion tap roots give up the fight.  Every plant in the garden looked gorgeous, thriving, but only the cucumbers demanded that I gather them up.  They were numerous and threatening to take over the neighboring rows, growing through the fence and out into the field.  These I was happy to share.  So you may be surprised to learn that few people want a full grocery bag of cucumbers.  I was becoming a public nuisance: "What? Only three? Ever try cucumber gazpacho? And you can purée them for puffy eye masks!" 

Late last summer, I graciously offered our neighbors a large bunch of our radishes.  Okay so, big deal,  they looked more like lumpy red carrots.  Your radishes would too if you had rocks and clay for soil.  The neighbor bit into a radish and spit it out on the ground: "These are woody!  I pick 'em when they're the size of a thumb."  I may have sneered at him. 

And I began to see that my issue was not just with not wanting to share, but also with forcing things on people.  It sounds like I may have a problem with self-will or, more precisely, self will run riot.    

This year, we picked the radishes when they were smaller than a thumb.  And this year we have a chart for when to pick what, not that the chart is accurate, but it's some kind of a guide. 

Funny thing, yes the radishes were ready first, but the bib lettuce, arugula, basil and yellow onions have zoomed ahead of the cauliflower and yellow squash. 

Also, I learned a trick.  The more you pick the sugar snap peas, the more they produce.  It may also be true of the arugula and the other vegetables just getting going.  This news makes my tight-fisted cheapskate tendencies evaporate like the morning mist.  And I have the whole rest of the summer to work on the other issue.