Tag Archives: trust

Top That!

Top That!

Day 5 of 30 Days of Imperfection – Wait, it’s only day 5?!?

So yesterday, it felt risky to write my last post on Business Plans. But I’ve received good response (thanks!) and feel good about what I wrote.

Today, I don’t what the heck to write about. I feel kinda like a novelist who’s finally finished the 600 pager, but has been asked to write a sequel. Or worse yet, an entire series. With the same leading heroine. Ugh.

So what will the heroine do next? Whom will she champion? What new risk will she take?

What does the heroine do when she gets writer’s block in the middle of a 30-Day writing challenge? And really, this isn’t the middle, it’s the beginning.


Yes. That’s it. This is about fear, too. (Jeez, what isn’t?) Can I write something good enough? Or am I doomed to write only 1 post a month, or a quarter that’s any good?

What if I can’t top that last post? What if I fall flat?

(OK I almost just deleted all of that. But, that would be *perfectionist* of me, wouldn’t it?)

What would the heroine do? Thinking of all my favorite fantasy adventure novels, the heroes and heroines tend to reach a point in the story where they get stuck. When all seems lost. Sometimes it happens more than once.

In Joseph Campbell’s writings about The Hero’s Journey, he talks about Crossing A Threshold — an adventure cannot happen until this is done…to pass beyond the known into the unknown.

This process of writing these posts every day, letting go of my judgments and just putting my words and my Self out into the world, a little each day, is my journey into the unknown, away from what has felt familiar and safe, even if painful.

So, I’ve crossed a threshold by writing these posts. What happens next?

Your guess is as good as mine. Stay tuned, as they say…





I’ve planted my Spring Garden. This year, I may not get a summer garden, as the retaining wall between my house & my neighbors’ needs to be replaced. That means the location of my current garden will be unavailable to me come July.

That’s OK though. I can always plant in a container. In fact, I plan to put some tomato plants in a container here in the next couple of weeks. See, that’s one of the things I love about gardening: plants will grow pretty much regardless of what you do or don’t do. Once the soil is prepared and the seedlings planted, there isn’t a lot more for me to do.

Keep an eye on them to make sure they aren’t being “pestered” by bugs. Water (when there isn’t enough rain!) Pull a few weeds here and there so they don’t get crowded out. And then, harvest. Lovely little baby lettuce leaves, arugula and those tomatoes will make a nice salad.

Couldn’t my life be this way? Like a garden? No garden responds well to “over-doing”. If I water more than is necessary, the plants could drown. If I constantly handled the plants to make sure they were OK, the leaves would get bruised and the fruit could fall off prematurely. But I find myself “over-doing” my life sometimes.

Over-analyzing. Worrying too much. Building up big expectations, only to be disappointed at the outcome and myself. Living in the dreamworld of “what if’s” rather than with my feet solidly planted in the soil of the here and now.

My garden has incredible resiliency. And it doesn’t take a whole heck of a lot of worry or coddling or fear-driven thinking to grow. In fact, pretty much none. I noticed that one of my baby lettuces had been uprooted the other day. I paused for a moment thinking, “should I just toss it? It probably won’t survive.” But, I took the risk of putting it back into the ground. The next day, it looked as though it had never been uprooted: perky green leaves greeted me when I checked.

How many times have I given up on something – or on myself—when all I really needed was to get grounded again, to trust that my roots will nourish me? The garden takes very little worry – what it does require is trust. Trust in the power of Nature.

I make this commitment to myself: I trust that what I need will be there for me; that, like my garden, I can stay rooted in my sense of self and know that nourishment is available if I seek it. I trust that I will continue to grow.

Could your life be like a garden?