When thoughts can only be expressed in poetry or prose-poetry, we have a place for them in our hearts.
I planted yellow crocuses today.
The package says they will pop up in January or February. I have hopes that they will. I gave them everything I could to offer them a good start to their little yellow lives — bone meal, amendment, sweet words.
Planting is a declaration of belief in the future.
Maybe the same could be said for gardening in general. We place seeds, bulbs, and tiny sprouts in the ground with the confidence that they will grow and become the plants we envision. And probably they will. We imagine we’ll be here to see them, too. And probably we will.
When someone passes away, it challenges me, even beyond the sadness, to continue to believe in a future. Maybe this is a direct result of all the stories i read as a child that included a ‘happily ever after’. How can a ‘happily ever after’ ever end? And if it does, then why do we call it ‘ever after’? But I digress.
In planting yellow crocuses, I envision an upcoming winter, visions of reading by the fireplace, a Thanksgiving turkey, walks in the rain, warm sweaters, gray skies and bare trees. I imagine that day in late January when I walk by this young crocuses patch and behold the first green leaves poking up from the earth. I see life coming back after the deep sleep of winter. I see the future.
And it is as bright as sunshine.
Jude Harlan, founder of Me-At Last, Women On Purpose, is a publisher, editor and journalist. She pursues her passion here at Me-AtLast.com, sharing her blogs, her thoughts, and empowering women in our search for inner strength, purpose and the power to be ourselves – to take our turn at the helm of our lives – to speak our truths. Find out more about her on our About page.
The hot flash comes and I can smell myself begin to sweat. This is not a pungent odor but rather I smell as though someone is pressing rich dark earth through my pores like coffee grounds through an espresso machine. I smell like fertile soil. I smell like you could plant beautiful flowers under my skin and the blooms would be breathtaking.
Dampness spreads across my body so quickly that I wonder if this change of clothes will survive. And the heat! How do I not burst into flames? My breathing changes as I am actually a bit afraid of the hot flash. So much power. So much fire. My mouth is parched and my face is flushed. And then it passes.
Now comes the cooling that can only come after the stark contrast of fire. I feel as though I have been warming myself by a campfire and have suddenly stepped away into a cold wintery night. I can’t even remember how hot I was a few minutes before. Now all I can do is seek warmth.
How can I embrace the fire, the cold, the power? How can I love this stage of life that has so many contradictions? Menopause, you intrigue me.
Tara McDaniel, poet, healer, artist and teacher, is a NIASZIIH healer practicing in Portland, Oregon (at Shanti Om Massage & Ayurveda Services). Learn more here. Meet her on her Facebook page and learn more about her healing. Find her art at Taradise Cards on Etsy! Also, look for more from her here at Me-At-Last!