strength in dirt

purpleandblue.jpg I didn't know how much I'd miss my mom when we moved so far away. I guess it's hard either way... you stay, you feel like you need to get out and do your own thing -- live your own choices. You go and you miss your family terribly. And both options have amazing blessings too. Sometimes you mourn and sometimes you feel complete contentment.

My mom came down for a visit two weeks ago and we dug in the dirt, planted flowers and laughed as we put in a fountain (three times due to the fact that we don't read directions). Like usual... Usual is so beautiful. Digging in the dirt is what we do. We get filthy and sweaty and sore. We haul rocks and battle weeds and transplant bulbs. We put up fences and prune trees. We are powerful do-it-yourself women. My mom reminds me of what I'm made of. She tells me to enjoy the things around me. To work as hard as I can and then to stop and take it all in. She teaches me balance.

I am also learning that I need to be able to draw this strength out on my own. More frequently. So it's always there and I can be clear. So this weekend I planted some more. I took out three trees with a handsaw (ouch). I felt her there as I pulled up all the weeds. And I felt my own powerful capableness. And then I rested.