Uprooted, Transplanted

Sometimes you have to dig deep. Sometimes you have to be willing to be uprooted. Sometimes your Plan A gets delayed and you have to resort to Plan B. Being the sentimental type I get easily attached. I have a plant of my Mom's that was her Mom's before that. It exists on minimal care and maximum neglect. It rarely gets fertilized. I need to give it more love. Who of us doesn't need a little more love?

Today I want to talk about Ralph. Ralph is a plant that goes where ever I go. He was a gift from a dear neighbor...you guessed it, whose name was Ralph. My Ralph came from Ralph's Grandmother's yard on the East coast many many years ago. He's traveled all across the US like a 3 dimensional Flat Stanley in plant form. I've moved four times with Ralph. He's always thrived. When I dug him up in June I put him in a pot and promised him a place to put down roots later this year. I've tended him all summer. He's looking a little forlorn.

It occurred to me I'd have to let him go for a while for his own good. We have to do that sometimes. I'm not good at letting go. Maybe none of us are. He's not thriving. So, Plan B became the only option. We let things we love go sometimes so they can go, or grow, the way they are meant to. We often don't much like it. Sometimes we get them back, sometimes we have to wish them well and leave them behind. I'm counting on going back for Ralph somewhere down the road. I'm trusting he will thrive in the meantime. 

We too need to thrive in the meantime. Our "meantime" can be a time of uncertainty, of loss, of grief, of hope, of growth. We have to examine our "meantime" carefully for signs of growth, for signs of despair. Take it out, hold it gently, and if necessary plant it somewhere safe. It may not be in the place you hoped. And...sometimes that just has to be okay. 

So I tucked Ralph in today with some of the dirt of his past, in a safe place and I'm willing to let go for a while. 

Being uprooted is hard, being transplanted is hard. Letting go of the outcome is hard. All of these things are part of the bigger plan. The one we pray is a gentle plan. The one we know can be unexpected and impossible to fathom. I longed to plant Ralph in a yard of my own. I'm releasing that dream for the moment. And, in this meantime, this time of growth, I'll let go and let God. God will provide for Ralph and I. In ways yet to unfold.

Alone

 Have you ever pondered how many alone's there are in life? I never had until recently. Living alone, in a pandemic, brings alone to the surface where your brain rolls it and rolls it around and attempts to sort it out.

Now, alone isn't all bad, or all good. It is a part of life. Some journeys can only be taken alone. Part of loving yourself can only be learned while alone. Alone is a blessing, and a challenge. Alone is comfortable sometimes, and a piercing ache other times.

Growing up feeling alone was uncomfortable, it was the absence of love and support. It was scary and nothing about it felt tolerable. It is a long journey to feel comfortable being alone. One must develop strength of self confidence, faith, and self care to be comfortably alone. Yet, we long for connection, so the comfort of being alone only goes so far. As it should.

There are so many alone's.....the peaceful alone of a new Mother feeding her precious infant. There is the alone of the elderly wondering what is left to life. There is the alone of the widow/widower at a wedding with other couples celebrating the sacrament of marriage. There is the alone of a painful period of growth. There is the alone of offering tough love to someone in transition. There is the alone of contentment, when all your needs are met and you pause in gratitude. The alone of a scary diagnosis. There is the alone of betrayal, and the alone of reflection. There is alone within relationships. And, alone without relationship. There is the alone of knowing you did the best you could and still life imploded. There is the alone that is a communion with nature. I like that one a lot.

So many alone's. So many opportunities to count blessings, look within, and extend grace to our solitary self. Alone is a process, and a promise. And....there is the truth that we are only as alone as we chose to be. 

Which part of alone do you find yourself in? Can I walk a tiny part of that path with you so you know you are not completely adrift and, you know..."alone"?  Can I share I've struggled with being alone, and fought with the reasons it happened? Can I own each day is a new alone. Happy alone, angry alone, lost alone. Comfortable alone, lonely alone and peaceful alone. We all have our alone, and we grow from it. May your alone's be as short as possible and as long as necessary. And...may you embrace the gifts that come from the process.