Soft Soil, Warm LighT
Soft soil, warm light; two firm favourites, ushered in by the return of spring. The softening of cold, jagged edges and the slow emergence of warmer, gentler days.
I’m primed for resilience and prize it as a valuable skill for life on this planet. I’m a good picker up and duster off of myself. The shadow of this, of course, is the tendency to expect everyone to be the same. Hard expectations. But these transitional periods always stop me in my tracks. The awareness that pivotal points bring will always instil in me a deep (rare) sense of connection, a softening of my own sharp edges and an unfolding of a wider perspective.
I’m espaliering a young apple tree this spring, in the hope that one day, many years from now, it will look like the beauty in this photo. Anyone who has done this knows the first step is a drastic lop to the tree’s top. Drastic cuts may lead to great reward in the long run but as I look down at half a young tree’s worth of beheaded buds in my hand, I can’t help but feel a pang. I can see already that I’ve made mistakes in my planting. My tree should have been planted on a mound. I definitely should have fitted the trellis first. I know this, and still I got it wrong. That’s OK, what’s done is done. Nature can be forgiving - sometimes, and these days I am less precious about my mistakes...sometimes.
A friend and I were talking about the freedom of learning through trial and error, of not needing to be right about or be instantly brilliant at everything - and, most importantly, of being wrong without any feelings of embarrassment and shame. It seems we are both a far cry from our Performing Arts degree days. The cornerstone of this sea change is probably more forgiving outlets, less harshly lit expectations of perfection -and a warming of our own soil and light.
Like she said ‘if you always need to be right, then how can you expect to learn?’ She’s an artist now, a medium she feels she can succeed and fail in, without being eviscerated by her mistakes. I can relate these feelings to the practice of yoga. There really are no mistakes, if only we can embrace and stay open to imperfect learning.
Photo credit: Root Plants