One great thing I find about not being in regular employment is having to look more deeply at what’s happening in me emotionally.
This morning I woke feeling melancholy and blue. I didn’t get out of bed until 10.30 a.m. I don’t propose to bore you, dear reader, with the reasons behind this little episode. What I find interesting is that if I had had to get up, get on the train and go to work I would have done. I would have put on my mask of jollity and professionalism and I would have bullied myself out of my mood.
Instead, I was able to sink into it, to unravel the strands of what was happening and allow them to re-knit into a different pattern.
In turn that allowed me, later, to step into my massively overgrown autumnal garden and marvel at the beauty: the banked fires of a huge pyracantha; the last blush and scent of climbing roses; the honeysuckle scrambling through towering brambles to meet the wild blackberries that have colonised my flower beds; bees gathering nectar from mint flowers; a ladybird contemplating the last of my tomatoes, which will not now ripen and which I will make into pickle later today.
We have to work to live, and if we’re lucky we enjoy our work. Being dependent on state handouts and/or worried about money long-term is a rotten, destructive way to live. But I also think it’s too easy to allow our jobs to give us an excuse not to do the sort of inner work we need in order to grow. When we’re busy we can too easily ignore those little cues that tell us to adjust our course. We can too easily take for granted the beauty all around us, and ignore the ugliness which calls for us to take action.
Thinking all this, I went back into the garden with heavy padded gloves and secateurs and snipped a little bunch of autumn glory to add to the garden altar I keep on a shelf by my back door. I realised my mood had been transformed from melancholy to deep joy.
What cues do you need to listen to?
Image: my photograph above of my garden altar today
Elsewhere:
Sue (writing from Australia where it’s spring, not autumn) has a great quote by Wendell Berry underpinning her own observations on the other side of freedom, here. And go check out the full moon dream boards from earlier this week at Jamie’s place. I didn’t do one this month but seeing all this gorgeousness, I wish I had.
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{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }
This is so lovely and true Tess. How often do we shake ourselves into putting on the necessary face and ignore the uncomfortable feelings hovering below the surface. I think a lot of the ubiquitousness of depression comes from unclaimed feelings never having a chance to be explored. It may seem easier in the short run to numb them, but in the long run we will always be more whole if we allow to hear the voices of all the parts of ourselves.
Beautiful photo and meditation, Tess. I’m just now off to my Mom’s place where I’ll be offline for the next day but I’m copying and pasting this post to my text editor so I can re-read and think about it this evening.
Perfect timing as I officially start vacation tomorrow. No excuses — I definitely have time to listen and read.
ee
I am an Anglophile which accounts for some of my fascination with your blog. This post sent me out on a couple of word hunts. I had to look up “secateurs,” a British term apparently for pruning shears. I always pronounced it “pyrocnathus,” which was wrong and I was delighted to learn via Google that the Latin name for Firethorn should be pronounced like a woman’s name, or maybe an exquisite appellation for a cat, that is, Pyrocantha! Squinting closely at your altar, there it was in all its lustrous red glory! Tess!
@Abbey: “the necessary face”, yes that’s it exactly.
@Elaine: thank you, and have a wonderful vacation – we look forward to pictures!
@kigen: Ah, well this helps me also because I’d always assumed that your pruning shears were in fact what we call shears, which are a different thing. And I love the name Pyrocantha for a cat – a big marmalade cat!
Hi Tess,
What you say is so true of many of the compelling distractions in our modern world – becoming embroiled in them can so easily prevent us from listening for cues. Another beautiful post and one of the reasons why I’m passing on……The Kreativ Blogger Award to you. To read more on this, see here:
http://www.sallylever.co.uk/2009/09/08/kreativ-blogger-award/
Sally x
tess–i love this post and could feel the movement within you as i followed your words. the photo is stunning and i am so glad you shared your altar with us today.
i found many years ago that i do not do well following other people’s schedules. it seems a bit strange because i do like order and some form or routine. hmmm. a little time might work well processing there. last week i had intentionally kept friday clear of commitments so i could work at home. my body (and soul) had other intentions for the day and needed some serious tending, so i put aside my self-imposed work schedule and lingered in listening to myself. as things go, it was just what i needed to do and am so glad i told “my boss” i couldn’t come in.
oh, i just had one of those juvenile thoughts which i am prone to do.
did you ever as a kid say to anyone “you’re not the boss of me!” ? guess i am the only real boss of me, huh?
@Sally: wow, thank you, both for the kind words and the award. Will have a think on this before passing it on. How exciting!
@Lucy: thank you, and bring on those juvenile thoughts, they’re great! I think the expression you use is American. I’ve heard it on TV shows (Xander uses it in Buffy – how sad it is that I can quote this?). But I was certainly very prone to using “Why?”. That’s another good way of being the boss of you. In fact I’m not sure I use it often enough now…
so, buffy is yet another (guilty) pleasure that can be attributed to your influence along with richard rohr and leonard cohen.
a nicely diverse list, i do believe. also, i have very effectively used the word “why” in therapy sessions when someone is trying to convince me they HAVE TO do something. it is very effective to use with ourselves too…as in why do i have to go to work (or get out of bed) today? another great question is “what’s the worst that could happen if i do or don’t do/say it?”
Thank you for allowing me to walk along your morning thoughts to end up at your altar.
I can relate to your secateurs. Spending time in the garden is usually a blessed moment when it nurtures me as I nurture it.
There is an apprenticeship to life after a job; I found it took me a while to wean myself from the excitement of work. But my time evolved into something else, which I now truly love.
Thanks again, Tess.
Lucy, I’m big on diversity!
Claire, I like your phrase “apprenticeship to life…”