Ive been pondering the idea of writing about the emotional landscape as a garden for a while with many of my favorite writers expressing subtle hints at their own version of this concept for years.

So here is my turn. I confess it's easier for me to manage a mental load if it's broken into chunks of analogies.

Driven by poetry, my mind likes to express itself through stories and visuals I can pull together from the threads of experience I live everyday.

Perhaps digging can be referred to as reflection. Digging in my emotional garden brings up a lot of questions. I'm reminded that this is what it feels like when I ponder what I'm like and the situations that lead to my actions or reactions. They always bring up whys, and more whys. I may get an answer or a may get a dozen. Only to realise the whys don't matter at all but how it made/makes me feel does. So i ask myself how does it feel to dig?

The answer hits me like lightning striking a tree in the darkness. Bright, fast and enlightening/energizing. I can feel my temperature rise as I find anger or frustration in the way I react or respond. Then comes a feeling of shame or blame as I find new ways I could, should or would have liked the interaction or experience to go. All too easy in hindsight. Compassion then follows and compassion feels like the rain because more often than not I end up in tears.

That's it! I made it rain, or rather I noticed the rain by digging and noticing the way it feels when I dig.

Small steps in a direction that feels familiar is better than no steps or a careful jog in some random direction. As it rains I notice the ground fill and swell, the way it feels lighter and how when the soil swells it tends to lift me above the hole I once felt so lost in. The surrounding rock becomes softer and I can use it to mold a staircase of which I find myself molding into creative carvings as I pull myself up.

As i carve away i notice some seeds buried deep within the stone walls. These don't look like any seeds I've seen before but it makes me excited because maybe i can plant them and grow a friend? Only time will tell really.

As I find myself digging through top soil with my hands now covered in the mud of past despair, I realise that the top soil is full of life, and that I've perhaps grown at least an inch since last time I took notice.

How lovely to feel so tall. Self reflection can really be a beautiful thing, if only we would give ourselves the time to really playfully dig.

This new seed will grow and I get to learn how to manage this companion.

What have I learnt?

I learnt that if my soil remains soft and I see this plant flourish that it is indeed a friend to tend to as well.

I can notice its habits of self cultivation, composting and most importantly, digging habits. Because these traits I value in my garden, and I'd like to keep it this way for life, and honestly…there is nothing wrong with that at all.

I find I remember more information, I trust myself and my garden more, and i'm looking forward to finding more seeds along the way.

I'm not ashamed of my rock bottom as I know it helps me find the seeds that might really benefit from growing with me, side by side.

1.11.24