**If I had two wishes, I know what they would be….
I’d wish for Roots to cling to and Wings to set me free…. ~Denis E. Waitley~

I was always one of those little girls that liked to play in the dirt. In the beginning, my mom used to spend hours fussing over my poofy pigtails, buying ruffled socks, coaxing me to love pastels, etc. She quickly learned that it was less stressful for her if she did cornrows or twists, invested in sturdy children’s footwear and be grateful that the green and blue hues that I thought were so beautiful were at least on the lighter end of the spectrum.

I was an outdoorsy type of chick. The thing that I loved to do the most was play in our outdoor garden in the backyard. There is something amazing about the process of watching things grow from scratch. Tilling and fertilizing the land to make sure that it’s ready for the journey ahead, taking extra special care to make sure that the seeds were planted evenly (so as not to over stress one area), getting your hands dirty as you push the seeds deep into the earth, watering ever so often and then waiting….being patient….

There’s something about not knowing how things are supposed to end up. Knowing that you desperately want your final product to be just as beautiful as the package of seeds you bought or pictures you found…or even your neighbor’s yard. Sometimes you become impatient – worry that you’ve watered too much, or maybe not enough. Did you dig a deep enough hole for the seed to root properly? What if the bugs, rabbits, foxes or deer….yeah, I grew up in the South but back then deer still ran freely in my neck of the woods… (no pun intended lol) would destroy all of your hard work? What if? What if? What if?  WHAT IF?!?!?!

And then you see it….that first green bud…and you rejoice!!! Whoo-hoo… I grew something. Hot damn! And then a new set of worries pops up. You can’t control the weather and sometimes you see your crop begin to wilt – begging for rain water. Other times, no matter what you do – the crop just wasn’t mean to bloom to its fullest that year but will return bigger and better next season.

No matter what the outcome was, I have always been in awe of the process. And I kinda feel like that now. Like I’ve been planting seeds all over the place in so many areas of my life and now I’m nervously awaiting my first crop. It seems like there are tiny buds peeking through in some areas and then others have yet to grow. And I worry. Did I plant my seeds deep enough? Am I watering too much? Or not enough? Why is the left side of the garden sprouting before the right side? What did I do differently over there?  Why is it unseasonably cold this summer or sweltering during the winter.  Will there be another drought?  How is that gonna affect my plants?????  Now I KNOW I saw a bud sprouting over there yesterday. Where is it today???? And why the hell am I planting anyway, since it’ll all be over in 2012 thanks to the Mayans, El Nino and the terrorists!?!?!?!!!!   UGH!!!

And then…right before my inner meltdown becomes visible, I hear a blend of my Grandmothers ‘voices. The green thumbs from both sides my family. They were naturals. They planted with care, watered when it felt right, sat on the porch and smiled – one with deep dimples and the other with a natural gap in the center of her grin. They both knew that they had done everything they could and that the rest was up to Mother Nature…who they both happened to be on a first name basis with. Both women used to always calmly say, “I’ve done all I can do. The rest is up to the earth” and relax and let nature take its course.  As simple as that seems, as far as I can remember, I never saw a time that their gardens were bare.

**Special thanks to my grandmothers for giving me the roots of your wisdom and the confidence to take flight…