In 2000, after I walked the Honolulu Marathon with my husband to raise money for the Arthritis Foundation, I decided to go off of the anti-depressent that I was on for my Fibromyalgia. I did this, without consulting my physician, unaware that I would need to taper myself off of the medication. I fell into a deep, suicidal depression. It took awhile, but I contacted my Family Nurse Practirtioner, who was able to see me immediately; putting me back on an antidepressent and getting me into a Therapist.
sit on the patio, listening to the stillness, watch the light fade from the sky, leaving colors in its wake. And slowly, almost magically, the lights come on; hung from trees, fenceposts, in garden beds, shining on plants, into the warm summer air. Every summer, I give a Garden Party. And we have a Scavenger Hunt with prizes. It’s wonderful and silly and magical. As it should be. Because. What else should life be about, but friends, laughter, beauty and magic?
I realized I needed to make changes, if I was to survive. A co-worker reccommended that I move from my shared office with a controling co-worker who took up 3/4 of the office space with herself and her clutter, and move into an office housing equipment used very seldom. I set up a Zen space. A water fountain, Japanese Lanterns, a sand bowl, plants, and those electronic scent dispersers. It made all the difference in the world. Despite the fact that I used the space to make phone calls and write my Progress Notes, it was a space where I could decompress, calm and regroup. People would drop by whether I was present or not; listen to the fountain, play in the sand. It wa not only a space for me, it became a space for all.
When I got sick and could no longer work, I let all my hobbies go. Photography, gardening, stained glass, batik. Laughing. About 8 years into my illness, the weeds had utterly and completely taken over the flower beds. I’m not sure what changed, perhaps I was put on a better antidepressant? But I decided I would take back the garden. One bed at a time. It took me 4 years. Then. I bought a flying pig. A big one. Nothing flashy, it was green. I noticed it missing one day. I found it in our propagne grill, an apple by its nose. Which is the same as an eye roll from my family and proof that I live in a house with Gremlins.
My garden is me. Special and magical. There are things. My family calls them “Tschotschkes”. Nothing anywhere close to garden gnomes. Nothing cutesy, bright or garish. I prefer the subtle; as if it grew whole cloth from the soil or crawling on a tree. A pig here,a lizard there, birds and frogs, even a fairy. Hiding under leaves, peeking through the bushes. There is beautiful Haitian Oil Drum Art on the fences. My family teases me every time I buy something new when we go on vacation. According to my family, I have achieved maximum Tschotschke capacity in the garden. My Tschotschkes tell the story of my life, my travels, my garden. My family and I even painted a mural on the formerly severely white wall of the garage, forming much of the South end of the yard. My husband painted the base coats. I painted the trees and flowers. My daughter painted a beautiful mandala sun, flying in the sky. My son outlined the painted birdhouse...each gremlin to his/her own talents.
Last summer, I was able to find waterproof solar candles to put in the 20 plus lanterns I have in the gardent. We
Make a place for yourself. Where you can breathe. Where you can be. Surrounded by life and beautiful things. A place where you can be by yourself, or when you want, where you can invite friends. Every summer. I give a Garden Party. And we have a Scavenger Hunt with prizes. It’s wonderful and silly and magical. As it should be. Because. What else should life be about, but friends, laughter, beauty and magic?
