Restoration

There's a little bleeding heart plant next to my walkway outside the front door. I bought it at the beginning of the season last year; a leggy, wilted closeout plant that only set me back a couple of dollars. I found a place for it that seemed to have just enough sun, put it in the ground, and hoped for the best. (I'm not exactly known for my mad gardening skills.) It grew a little, even bloomed a little, and as the heat of summer set in, it yellowed and wilted. The cold of fall seemed to finish it off, and by early winter it was a few brown stems lying on the ground; a shadow of the little plant that had given us a handful of lovely heart-shaped blooms just months earlier.

Every Spring I find a measure of happiness in watching my bulbs pop up and all of the dormant plants showing signs of life. I had forgotten about the little bleeding heart. I looked at the spot a month or so ago and thought what a strange weed it was growing there between my tulips and my daffodils. I didn't have the time right then to take care of it, so I went about my day. This morning I came home from taking my dog for a little walk, and noticed that suddenly that "weed" was a robust, thriving little shrub; that same bleeding heart plant that I had added to the bed late last Spring, now already starting a pretty little show of fuchsia blooms and looking much hardier and happier than last year.

In February I had the amazing opportunity to join the staff of February's Brave Girl Camp. It's a project that two of my sisters, Melody and Kathy, have been dreaming about for a long time and have recently made happen. It's an art and life retreat, designed to help women center themselves, get to know themselves better, define where they'd like to be going, remember how to really love themselves and others, I could go on and on. . . I think the outcome is different for everyone. My function was supposed to be to help take care of the wonderful guests, to make sure it was a peaceful, relaxing, safe environment and they had everything they needed and wanted. I ended up getting infinitely more out of it than I could have contributed, though.

Of all of the things I learned and gained there, one of the most significant was the concept of closing for restoration. I don't think I could teach the concept as eloquently as my sister does, but I'll summarize the best I can. Basically it's a process of self-renewal and reflection where you learn eliminate the unhealthy things in your life, embrace the enlightening and beautiful, and figure out how to live with the in-between. It's hard work that no one can do for you; sometimes painful, often liberating, and definitely worth it. (Melody fully explains this concept on her blog, but it's back in the archives a couple of years. I'll ask her if she knows exactly where and link it when I find it.) Ironically I drove up to camp thinking how wonderful it is that I'm in such a healthy place in my life and so available to help others, but that's not exactly how things went down! It was the beginning of a lot of soul work for me. Work that only I can do. I did a lot of thinking, and lot of praying, a LOT of crying. But it has been so, so good. So necessary. Between the restorative process and some realizations I came to through the very therapeutic art I had the opportunity to create I feel like a less encumbered, more present, lighter, clearer version of myself.

I still have lots and lots of work to do, but my little bleeding heart plant gives me hope. What I saw as wilted flowers, and then a lost cause, and then a weed has become the beginnings of a strong, beautiful part of the flower bed. Underneath the brown stems and wilted leaves, far beneath the surface my little bleeding heart was doing hard work. When the frosts had almost passed and the sun was out and the plant knew that the time was right, when it was strong enough where it counted most, and nature's intuition said it was safe to go outside, it pushed its way through, grew and grew, and now has stronger stems and more leaves and many more blossoms than last year. And it's just getting started!