gardening thoughts

Heavens to murgatroyd! I just finished the sweaty job of weeding
the front flower beds at Willow Manor. Gardening is a perfect time
for contemplation; in tune with Mother Earth, the scent of moist
soil and foliage. Don't you think a life of learning and creating are
much like gardening, always in a beautiful process of growth, death
and renewal?

My friend, Bill Stankus, blogged this week on some particular college
classes he had taken and subjects that interested him. We all wonder
at times what might have been, had we chosen a different college
major or career path. It's often difficult at age 18 to know yourself
well enough to choose an occupation for life. But, I'm curious to know
how many of us are actually still pursuing that original career we
embarked on, as idealistic young freshmen. This transformation of
learning and evolving as a person, in my opinion, should be a lifelong
process.

I was offended recently, when someone mentioned that I had "laid
aside" my college education to raise my children. I had the good
fortune of a liberal arts education, with a major in fine arts and a
minor in psychology. The wealth of knowledge I gained in school was
just the catalyst of a lifelong metamorphosis into the person I
am today. I'm proud to say, I certainly didn't lay aside, or hide my
mind and creativity on the proverbial dusty shelf, to enjoy the
benefits of raising my family. What a repugnant thought.

Could it be, like in Frost's poem, we "take the road less traveled by",
by observing and absorbing the experiences along the
path of life, regardless of the choice? Choice is inevitable, but you
never know what your choice will mean until you have lived it to its
fullest.



The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost, 1920

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

artwork: Spring in the Country, Grant Wood