True Sadness and Beauty

'Cause I still wake up shaken by dreams
And I hate to say it but the way it seems
Is that no one is fine
Take the time to peel a few layers
And you will find
True sadness

 

True sadness
True, true sadness

 

--Avett Brothers "True Sadness"

 

When the world feels too heavy for my hands to hold, I tend to dig my fingers in the ground, tend a small patch of earth.

 

I can't fix all the fractured hearts around the globe, but I can make amends to my garden beds.

 

I can weed, prune, transplant, feed and water my flowers.

 

Water.

 

With our low-flow well, our family depends on rain for our gardens, needing to preserve our limited water supply for drinking, dishes, showers, laundry.

 

We live in a rainforest. Water collection should be easy.

 

Until the rain stops.

 

Until we see temperatures in the seventies and nothing but sunshine here in Seward, Alaska, and all our tubs, buckets, and tanks remain low or empty.

 

Seeds don't grow. Leaves turn brown.

 

Walking through my gardens, I feel despair not relief. And there is already far too much grief in the world right now.

 

Like the Avett Brothers' song says: "No one is fine."

 

I think deep within each of us live multiple gardens, some parched with neglect, others lush, verdant, thriving.

 

Sometimes we only see dead leaves, shriveled petals, patches of soil where nothing grows.

 

Yesterday, a neighbor and friend sent me a text: "Good morning. The garden is finally at a planting stage! You had mentioned you might have extra Columbines. Is that still the case? Or any flower plants that you don't want?"

 

I invited her over, and as we walked through my perennial gardens instead of seeing neglect, she saw beauty.

 

"Your garden is so magical," she said. "You have so many little surprises."

 

I dug up Columbine, Iris, strawberries, my mystery ground cover plants and succulents, filling a tub with babies to bring from my home to hers. 

 

"I feel so grateful," she said.

 

"It's so dry," I said.

 

"Thank you," she said.

 

"We need rain," I said.

 

"These are beautiful," she said.

 

"Maybe Tuesday," I said.

 

"I love this little one," she said

 

"Hopefully its heavy rain and not another mist that just spits on the gardens," I said.

 

"I want a garden like this," she said.

 

Sometimes I wish we could step out of ourselves, view our lives from others' eyes, see how magnificent we are, how glorious.

 

Sometimes I want us all to to disarm our masks and expose our inner gardens, the jagged thickets and the divine petals.

 

Sometimes I wonder if we could truly see all the stories--all the suffering, rejection, loss, healing, victories, hope-- our neighbors carry, if we would ever hold a grudge again.

 

Or make enemies. Or fuel feuds. Or start wars.

 

We are all creatures in pain who need each other.

 

My friend drove her new plants down the hill to her house on the beach, planted them in her front yard, and then filled her water tank in the back of her van, drove back up to our house, and helped me hydrate my thirsty plants for the rest of the afternoon.

 

This world can be so fuckin' sad and so fuckin' beautiful all in the same breath.

 

My faith lies in friendship.

 

My faith lies in all of us reaching out to each other.

 

My faith lies us.

 

 

 

You were a friend to me when my wheels were off the track
And though you say there is no need I intend to pay you back
When my mind was turning loose and all my thoughts were turning black
You shined a light on me and I intend to pay you back 

 

--Avett Brothers, True Sadness

Comments

[Dana]

Faith in friends, family and companionship help us through these very emotional and difficult times. Your words have helped me start the healing process, through giving sharing and loving those who need us the most. You are beautiful

[Ingrid Harrald]

This is beautiful and true and hard and lovely. I love you and your writing.

[Danielle]

This. Is. Perfect.

[Christy]

Thanks all. Times have been hard all around. We need each other. Hugs and love to you three.