Last week I was driving a friend in a predicament (all masked up).

Our conversation turned to a mutual artist friend we had.

She’s suddenly doing so well – my friend commented.

After a pause of thought I realized,

not really!

She has been working really hard on this

for about 6 years if not longer.

I have had the pleasure of witnessing her hard work,

the steps she has taken physically painting,

but also learning, mind shift changing,

going through the ups and the downs.

Still showing up.

Showing up to the canvas when no one was asking her,

showing up to the canvas when a few people were asking her,

(that causes it’s own internal stresses).

The acts are consistent, mindful.

The output is amazing, ok, ughh.

Still showing up.

This is the reality of people’s sudden success.

It is a whole lot of graft and tears and laughs and joy.

It’s days and days of not quite sure’s.

Walking down my hallway I come to my own junction of turning up.

I turn right into my bedroom (a risky move).

I am heading for the bedside table that has my phone on it.

I’m feeling a bit bleh.

I haven’t had a creative high in a little while.

I can tell I’m wondering why am I doing this?

What’s on Instagram?

Knowing all the while this road is counterproductive.

I pass the book I am ¾ of the way through for my course’s book review assignment.

I repeat to myself – (Knowing I have this blog to write for May )…every act I take for that thing I love to do.

I pick up the book.

The pull is strong to go hide in my phone,

to feel a bit sorrier for myself,

to make up some complaint or other,

but the fact is I need to water those seeds.

Somedays I love hanging out with these pots of potential.

Sometimes it feels like a chore.

Sometimes I linger a long time chatting,

telling them my dreams,

basking in the sun.

Other times I’m tired,

i’m cranky.

Isn’t this just another thing I have to do?

Does it matter if I don’t water today?

Maybe even tomorrow?

Does it make a big difference really?

Yep!

It does.

Once we have composted those ideas,

planted them into the soil,

they have to be tended to.

If you leave them,

shrug off their importance,

they aren’t going to grow.

You aren’t going to see anything come from the odd try.

This is the work,

the consistent showing up,

this is what is going to start to make your dreams,

hopes, wishes start to form.

We don’t really know what is coming.

We don’t know what we will do with it.

But if we aren’t even watering,

then we can guarantee there isn’t going to be anything.

And that feels sad.

That feels sadder than the high of my hiding.

So I grab the book.

I wriggle a bit.

I look to the ceiling more times than I like.

The book is taking longer than I hoped to read.

But reading it is getting me further than the phone would.

The pages are turning – I’ll be ready to submit my paper soon.

Once submitted there will of course be more tending to do.

Each act I take

For that thing I love to do

Is watering the seeds I planted.

This is the first time I have really felt

I am doing something I was called to do.

I still have my usual distracting habits.

But they were seeds I chose carefully.

It is my job now to look after them.

Because I can’t wait to see,

what they become.

Happy Gardening