This rosebush is in my back yard.
I think of “Sleeping Beauty” when I look at it. You can't tell from the angle of this photo, but I've actually spent a few sessions hacking away at it. It's massive, tangled, and intertwined. It has thorns and it uses them. So I clip away bit by bit, clipping longer branches into shorter lengths that fit into my recycling bin, working in such a way that I avoid the thorns. When it's full, I dump it into the “branches” part of my compost pile. Today I looked at the rose bush to see what I've accomplished. It's hard to tell any difference.
But I don't mind working on it. I get
to be outdoors with birds and butterflies. I even enjoy the slugs and
spiders. And the plants are so prolific! So much of gardening in
Syracuse is deciding what you don't want and removing it to make room
for what you do want.
And I do want the rose bush. I just
want it to be a lot smaller.
Just like the rose bush, the inside of
my house suffers from neglect. The mess, while largely
compartmentalized, is a massive, tangled, and intertwined Rubik's
cube. Its thorns incite anxiety.
I don't like working on it. I have to
be indoors. I have to face fears and make decisions. Most of the
decisions are whether or not to keep something, and, if I keep it,
where to put it. That doesn't sound difficult, but it is for me.
I decided today that I will give myself
permission to resort to chocolate as a reward for working on my house
mess. So I baked some brownies.
For a certain number of tasks or a certain amount of time spent
on-task, I could eat a brownie. It's sad that a grown woman has to
resort to such extrinsic rewards. But I did start. I clipped away at
some edges today. I made a difference. I reclaimed my dining room
table. Even better, I found a button that I feared was gone forever.
This button goes on a dress that I love but have been unable to wear
for three years … because the button was missing.
I'm encouraged
to hack away some more tomorrow. But I will still need chocolate.
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