tending to the garden

drenched is sweat, rain and dirt I tend to the garden,

in a meditative state, pulling out overgrown weeds,

entangled in trees, shrubs and plants.

Thoughts rush through my mind, and the feeling of purpose,

rushes over with every handful of weeds,

I am in my garden, getting in touch with life.

a cure for everything.

I could not it out. for a long time I would become obsessed with a particular mirical fruit food or activity to get me out of a slump, feel refreshed or help me with a problem. And it would work! It would work so very well that I would rush to the kitchen and pour my third bowl of beans, or glass or apple juice or whatever food I was swooning over. I would shop double or triple that week, making sure my shelves are full of that one particular item. And for a time I would live in bliss.

Then a few weeks later when I am getting stomach pains from drinking to much apple juice, and when to pee for the forth time today. That mirical power that the juice gave me to stay focused and on track, does not work. I remain low on energy, I can barely leave the couch. Have I built up a tolerance? This was always my line of thinking. or maybe I am missing something else in my diet.

I am healthy, fit. Why don’t I have the energy to do much else with my day? This had puzzled me for so long. Until…

Until I realized it was all in my head, 40% physical, 60% mental. without knowing, I was the one holding me back, taking away my energy. I had never said to myself that I could and that I can. So my mind assumed that I could not. This placebo effect I had placed on the food I eat, was something I had control over. And so, when I poured myself a glass of juice. I said to myself loud and clear.

“this juice will give me the energy I need for my day!”

Let’s get fat together

I am at my desk when you come in, and flutter down onto my bed. Your dress spreads out like a squashed balloon. I get the impression that I was meant to be somewhere today. But as I do, I get caught up in my work.

You look over the large fruit bowl on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Selecting carefully an apple from the pile. I can hear crunching as you enjoy a few bites, covering your mouth with a finger as you chew.

“So are we going to do this?” You say.

I look up, swing my chair around. Before taking a final look at my work. I pick up a piece of fruit in answer to your question.