The past month has been about learning to shift and let go. This is not always easy for me. The trip to the sunny South that got cancelled (again) after being rescheduled back in January. The lingering cough and losing my voice (not COVID, not the flu) that zapped my energy for weeks. The French conversation class—hard to participate when your voice leaves you, but I listened. 

I don’t consider myself stubborn, preferring the word “focused” because it sounds better, I guess. I try not to be rigid, but when I make a plan I like to see it through. Until last week, I was mostly seeing it through my living room window, too tired to do much more than read a little, write a bit, and search YouTube for gardening inspiration.

Last week, when the temperatures finally ventured past the 50s, I went out back and decided to tackle one small area, work until I was tired. The backyard of my house is shady, and I have two shade gardens, ferns in one part, hostas (which I love) in another. I tackled the fern bed, which used to be home to a hydrangea that never blossomed much, not enough sun. Pulling weeds, trimming old growth, I went at it slowly, standing up to catch my breath when I got winded. I yanked up stems of the old hydrangea that did not flower, and pruned the nearby viburnum. Snip, cut, pull, and repeat. I raked out the bed of old leaves and spread mulch over the newly clean bed.

Such a feeling of accomplishment in such a small space.

But it was enough to remind me I was getting better and spring was here. Small steps matter; they count too. A change from the original plan, but with a shift in attitude and practice that I was glad I made.

This week has been much better. I am back to my workouts, cooked dinner for one friend and her children, and took a nice walk with another friend I had not seen in months. I told her ahead of time that I might get winded, so I would have to take my time. I got some writing done, and made green soup, full of spinach, kale, and spices. If I had resisted the changes that life demanded, by ignoring my exhaustion, fretting over the cancelled trip, and most of all, not resting, feeling better would have taken longer. I also would have missed the lesson that I have to return to at times—it is not just okay to rest, it is essential.