Hello my fellow garden lovers, how are you? Ready for another heat wave? I’m not, as you well know from my rather long rant in my last post. Anyway, nothing to do but get on with it. I’ve just fed and watered the dahlias & roses and I’ll continue to water these early in the morning or last thing at night. I’m doing the pots at least twice a day and I find I don’t mind doing these, it brings me joy to see how they are doing, noticing how the rose changes throughout the day. I’m noticing seed heads ripening and I’ve just collected the first of the wild carrot seeds, the bronze fennel is nearly there too and I have so much I’m thinking of offering it to my subscribers (uk only).
Now I don’t like to write all about me as I think that’s rather dull, however, what I’m about to say may resonate with you too and you may find it helpful. The only time I write about myself is if I think it would be of benefit to others.
So, I’m suffering from burnout. Lots of people are. How do you know when you’re suffering? For me it showed up when I didn’t have the energy or inclination to deadhead the cosmos last evening. That may sound daft but it’s a little job I enjoy doing. I knew I’d been burning the candle at both ends, knew I was tired and dare I admit- a little bad tempered. But as we sat in the garden last evening I turned to my husband and admitted that I just didn’t want to look after my garden at the moment as I just didn’t have the energy. I was contemplating ripping all the cosmos up just so I didn’t have them reminding me they needed my attention to keep them blooming. I was done! Now my garden is my pride and joy, it’s not neat, it’s not even well kept as I like things quite wild, but it is my happy place and I love to potter and talk to the bees as I’m doing jobs. This moment of noticing how I’m feeling, floored by my cosmos plants- well it was a relief of sorts. To know that when one has noticed and admitted out loud, well, there is only one place to go from here- recovery.
Right now I don’t even want to paint, the thought of picking up a paintbrush is exhausting and I wonder if I will ever want to paint again, another sure sign there.
My husband quietly picked up the secateurs and proceeded to deadhead the cosmos in a methodical manner, gently talking to the bees as he went. I felt a flicker of calm as I watched wordlessly. This simple act of kindness, of I’ve got this. Being able to lean on someone just a little. He was oblivious until I’d said how I was feeling, but I think that’s because I’m very good at getting on with stuff and I just keep going.
It was a series of events, all enjoyable but all taking a lot of diary and headspace. I’d opened the gallery in March and I think I forget just how massive this is- I own and run a gallery, I paint, I create ceramics and I have collectors for my work. That in itself is a lot, but I take it in my stride, it feels like I’ve been doing it for years, not just 6 months. Then there was the open garden a few weeks ago, again, I really wanted to do this but I am a perfectionist, if I’m going to do something it has to be perfect in my eyes, nothing less will do (that’s exhausting). On top of that I’ve been running workshops in my studio above the shop and I’ve been doing these on a Sunday (my day off). Then there’s the house, garden, life…
Sunday afternoon I returned to the garden after hosting a workshop, crawled onto a rug in the shade and slept. Yesterday I walked in the cool breeze of the morning, made a cake and sat in the garden with my youngest daughter, we got out the vintage china, made a proper pot of tea and demolished a generous slice of cake each. I think because I’d actually stopped, I noticed how I was feeling, my autopilot had been switched off and I was really noticing everything, how my joints were aching from tension, my chest tight from not breathing properly and my mind numb from overload. Stopping, walking in nature, being in my garden (even if not doing it) had plugged me back in, I could do nothing but watch.
There is a powerful new moon tomorrow and I wonder if all this coming to a head has something to do with it. I’m a strong believer in the moon and her powers. I regularly read a couple of columns on the subject. However, yesterday I was reading the same old thing, of letting things go and welcoming new things in. Like the tides of the sea, it’s a ritual that is normally ticking away in my subconscious. Letting go - letting things in. This constant, for once, I found quite exhausting. Of course life will change. Things will happen out of our control- but this constant assessment of life- asking us what we need to let go of, all of the time. Why can’t we just live and take each day as it comes. For some people simply waking up is a miracle. Actually I guess the fact we’re here in the first place is. Evolution- what a mind blowing topic…
But, if we’re playing the game of letting go, I thought mine might be my impatience & perfectionism. I’m always trying to figure something out. But that’s who I am, I’m not sure I can let something ingrained go? It occurs to me that I have just let go of a series of events. It dawns on me what I need to bring in - quiet, space, solitude. It’s time to be still, it’s time for quiet moments, not planning but nurturing. Not answering but putting some distance between the questions so I have time to come back to myself. Rest and recovery and when ready, a gentle recharge. For now I’ve pressed pause on in-person events other than running my shop. I’ve pressed pause on teaching art.
I don’t have the energy to tackle big tasks yet but I’m ok with watering and I think later today I will pick some flowers for the cottage, some for beside my bed and some for the table. My youngest daughter is covering the shop today to give me a few days off. This afternoon I’ll spend with my eldest daughter catching up with her news, she’s moved back home but it will be a treat to go out to lunch, just the two of us. I have no other plans and that is exactly what I need right now- no commitments in my diary.
Simply being still, simply noticing. I have a little project to quietly work on which requires mindfulness (much needed). It’s a restful practice and it’s for my new community - A Year Of Noticing which starts in September. It’s something that’s always been there but I’m bringing it to the forefront- to slow down, notice and connect to the seasons around me. To welcome in practices that give energy, make me feel good and inspire/encourage others to do the same. I love my photography and writing, I find these acts feed my creative soul and do not drain me. It’s the art of knowing what nourishes you and what depletes your energy.
My diary is free from in-person commitments at the moment and that makes me smile. I’m not sure how long it will last. I’d like to think that at some point I’ll learn the art of managing my time better, learn to say no and learn that there are only 24 hours in the day and I do not need to fill every waking minute. I’ve made a promise to myself that I will only take on one big thing a year. Next year I have another solo exhibition for a week in Aldeburgh, Suffolk and that’s it! No open garden next year as the exhibition will be my priority and I want to enjoy it.
Things I’m bringing in right now for recovery; permission to rest and do nothing, knowing it’s important and necessary for my health. Cake- not denying myself this simple pleasure and I do love to bake. Reading. Photography. Journaling in notebooks with a beautiful pen. That’s enough for now.
What about you, how are you doing? really doing.
Emma
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