Pruning

I come from a family of gardeners. My grandparents, my mom, my uncle, my siblings -- all were blessed with the green thumb. There are some basic lessons you learn as the daughter of a landscape designer: how to water plants (regularly, but not too much; water the soil, not the leaves, and be sure to give it a good soak so the water can make its way to the roots); odd numbered groupings and curved lines are more visually interesting than their even and straight counterparts; you have to prune trees and dead-head plants to keep the plant healthy and allow for new growth.

I did not get the knack for plants. In fact, I have one plant -- I love it, I water it, I keep it in my window so it gets some happy sunlight -- and the thing just doesn't thrive. See?


Even though it struggles a bit, I appreciate the life it brings to my cozy little apartment. Today I decided to give it a little extra TLC and cut out the dead matter. As I was snipping away, I was thinking about how the little guy might fare a little better now. It won't misdirect energy and nutrients to leaves that have already had their time. Pretty clear metaphor for life, no?

These past few months I've made a big effort to only keep the good stuff in my life. I changed jobs, cleared all the junk from my diet, and made space to let good stuff, great stuff in. It's working, but I was reminded today that you have to keep going through your life and pruning out the material that isn't working for you anymore. Today, that's manifesting itself for me in a few different ways:

My apartment is small, but it's more than enough for one person. I'm pretty good about not collecting knick-knacks and stuff, but I took inventory and realized there's plenty I could clear out. I now have three bags of stuff to go to Salvation Army and posted a few things on Craigslist. Get rid of stuff I don't need and pick up some extra cash? Yes please! I also gave myself permission to throw out things that I've been given over the years but don't particularly want. A candle with a smell I don't like? Out. Little gift cards from former coworkers? Gone. The deck of 49 cards that I was holding onto because it came from my grandparents? In the trash.

Creating all this space reminded me of something I've been thinking about doing for years, and have tried periodically, but never fully committed to. Meditating. One of my favorite professors in college encouraged us all to meditate for just five minutes a day. He assured us it would make our life richer, easier, clearer. I of course wanted the benefits of meditation, but have always had trouble getting myself to just sit still and try to focus my mind on a mantra instead of a to-do list. (I really love lists.) Today I'm making the decision to take time every day for the next 21 days to spend just a few minutes practicing meditation. The 21 day commitment came from this great post on Kris Carr's blog. It takes about three weeks to create a habit, and it's not such a long time that it feels daunting.

What has all this pruning allowed into my life? Here's a sampling:
-energy, vitality
-a quiet gratitude that I carry around for each day
-an appreciation of my job
-a career change that feels like exactly where I need to be
-an ease of sleep I'd never experienced before
-time to read all the books and magazines I have lying around
-the courage to try to be a supportive friend even when those I care about are enduring something that scares me
-juice, veggies, cravings for delicious healthy food
-bike rides with great friends

If you've pruned some dead matter from your life, or if you meditate, or even if you've just thought about meditating, I'd love to hear about it. Or if you have a name for my plant, feel free to toss that out there, too.