It was hot and humid as my knees were in the dirt, my back aching from pulling weeds. We were living in a new place, and as in all seasons of change, the depth of “new” made my brain hurt. It’s how I landed out in the soil-- wanting to do something familiar amidst all things new. Yet, as I pulled weeds, I realized that in this new place, even the species of weed, their stubbornness, and the feel of the earth within our yard were unfamiliar.
Discouraged, I sat up. I looked up and closed my eyes. The tension in my shoulders ached for a release, yet it wasn’t until this very moment that I even noticed the tension was there. How long had I been holding tight? What had I been trying to hold onto? What was the resistance growing within me really about?
Turning my focus back to the task at hand, I began again to pull the weeds out of the soil. And that’s when I saw it. The most beautiful blossom tucked behind the weeds, hidden from the outside world, yet angled in such a way to receive the exact amount of light it needed.
And then a familiar voice came to mind. It was my own, yet it wasn’t. It offered words of truth I had not heard for some time. Or maybe I had but was not willing to listen.
Bloom where you're planted.
If you, like me, find yourself in a season of change, wound tightly with the uncertainty of a new place, new position, new undertaking, anything causing you discouragement, take a breath. And with this, I offer you three ways to bloom where you’re planted:
- It’s a story. Accept that the current story you are telling yourself is a story, a tale created by you. As much as thoughts feel like factual beliefs, they are simply thoughts. And thoughts have the power to create our results. While you may choose to keep your story, notice that is a choice. Think of stories as seeds we plant. All seeds, prior to being planted, are hard and won’t produce fruit. Yet, when buried and nurtured, they soften, they expand, they dig deep and they reach up. Sometimes the seeds we plant are seeds we want to continue nurturing. And sometimes, they are weeds that need to be pulled.
- Loosen your grip. If the chatter in your mind sounds something like this: no, this is wrong because or it won’t work because your brain is tightly gripping to your “story.” Like me, you might find comfort in the familiar, even if the familiar isn’t necessarily serving your highest self. Some of the strongest weeds need a bit of wiggling before they can be pulled. They need some of the soil surrounding them to soften and loosen up a bit. Rather than jumping to a whole new story, loosen this one up a bit with grace. A statement I love to embrace after I’ve found awareness around my tension is this: Maybe I have some tension, and that’s okay. I know just what to do.
- Plant a new seed. Change, like the early stages of a new seed, seems to hold the most uncertainty. Will this new direction take root? Will all of this change continue to feel dark or will I feel the sunlight again? Am I nourishing myself? Am I softening my outer shell to embrace the change, or am I resisting? Am I pausing or am I trying to rush the process? Remember, for any seed to produce fruit, it must first be buried in the darkness for a time.
Bloom where you're planted. Where you stand now is exactly where you need to be. Let go of the tension holding you back from the present moment and let yourself pause. Inhale. Exhale. And then begin again.
Namaste
Sara Walkenhorst