Accidental Garden

I tried to be a farmer. In my backyard. Joey built this lovely garden box for many yummy organic edible plants to grow providing my ego and mouth with successful, healthy vegetables, and vine fruits. Everything either died, got munched on by critters or attacked by aphids. It looked like a war zone out there. I suck at farming. I was really good at keeping plants alive in Summerland. My mother's hand-me-downs were happy as shit under my wing, but food, nah.

I planted too late, watered too much, stared too long, whispered too loudly. I killed them with kindness. I spoke to them quietly since I have neighbors who might already think I'm wacky for having 4 cats. 4 Cats who all know their individual names.

My garden that never was is a failed project, or so I thought.

I have been composting for a couple of years at least. In that compost goes anything veggie, and nothing else. Once the stuff turned into rich dirt, I'd spread it around. Oftentimes the dirt was sticky and smelly because it hadn't turned all the way, but mostly. I got super sunflowers out of those compost-lined pockets I grew them in. Huge. People stopping their cars to take pictures of my giant sunflowers, huge.

This year I have seen food plants springing up in random places in my front yard. I have 3 types of tomatoes growing, some squash, and one herb plant. Plus, sunflowers. My compost has seeds in it that survived. I couldn't plan a garden but I have an accidental one. How cool is that?

I see this as a metaphor for my life. Once you start taking steps to improve your life, it's pretty painful and disappointing. The steps are unsure, yet you know the direction is right. It's a fire walk. It's a gibbon, an arboreal ape, making every step look like a game of "don't touch the ground"(shoutout to Samantha trainers)

You try and fail but you don't ever give up. Sometimes you wonder if you are doing it right. Nobody else seems to be in your boat and you have no paddle, but you keep it up. There are invisible benefits that appear after you begin to try for something that feels impossible, or just very hard to attain. I've noticed that whenever I start the process of some new endeavor not knowing how I can possibly succeed, the windows start opening. But, I would not otherwise have had them open had I not started to lay the groundwork.

After chemo everything in my life changed. I was on fire to follow my heart. I had thrown out the idea of Eatm. No way could I do that. No way. But once I almost burned to death from the inside out I said fuck it, I'm going. I have no idea how I can pay for 2 whole years of rent and school all while not working a paid job, but I will do this. I applied, didn't get chosen the first year. The next year I reapplied and got in. Suddenly, out of the blue, some relatives announced they would be helping all of the kids pay back their school loans or pay for their education. That actually happened.

There were rules and I abided by all of them. I wrote up a proposal, listing my expenses and they provided the money. I had to keep a certain GPA and submit grades. To have that land in my lap - unreal. That is how life is though. You have to blindly follow your heart, and have trust. If you want something enough and do the work to get it, you will have unforeseen windows opening up. It's never not scary, uncertain or seemingly impossible. The people who succeed in life recognize these 3 roadblocks, but they pay the toll and pass on through. The more you do this the more easily it is to succeed because the feelings are always the same.

My accidental garden is latent fruition for my failed efforts. I might have sucked as a farmer, but I tried. That is the important thing. You have to try. Giving up before trying is so sad. I may not have food in my garden box but I have it in my front yard because I valued my food so much I saved it to give back to the earth. Then the earth gave it right back to me. The recipe is Effort+love. If you combine these two ingredients, you will be paid. It may take awhile but sometimes that is the lesson.


*I miss the days of Boogie. Black as midnight, so black he would be invisible at night if the moon weren't up yet, until he was just upon me.
He loved being outside at night.
He was the night.
Reflective, mysterious, poignant.
Ah, my Boogs, I miss you little dude.