Right now I’m looking at the neglected pots of annuals in my back yard.
Granted, we live life upside down in Southern California. Our yards are brown in the summer and brilliant green in the winter. It takes effort to keep plants alive outside in August.
But those plants don’t really have a choice. They were born wherever they were born and made their way to Lowe’s Garden Center. I found them sometime in the middle of the spring and brought them home. Yay me!
They grew and spread and flourished and then between my husband and I we went a day or two without watering them. Then we were gone for a weekend. And now we are trying desperately to keep them alive before I lose my mind and pull them all out and toss them in the green waste bin.
Chad has been begging for succulents to say the least. Two words: drought resistant. Plus they’re cool and kinda hipster-ish. We are feeling old lately so we’ll take all the hipster we can handle.
Me, on the other hand. I’ve been lazy.
I believe those dying pots are a direct result of the summer slump in motivation that I can’t seem to shake. And those dead flowers are my fault.
Motivation is a choice. Flourishing, for people and not plants, is a choice.
Plants suck up only what oxygen and soil nutrients that are offered them. If they live in a suffocating or scorching environment, tough luck. But me? I have a choice. I don’t have to live in a pot.
Maybe this post is more for me than it is for you and if so, I’m still glad. If I have a choice than maybe you do too.
So today, when I’m tired and worn out, I’m going to remember a little girl in a field of green last spring and wonder about the feeling of the grass that day. And I’m going to live well. Because I have that choice.