Gardening

RANT Gardening is hard.

The track I have pursued in the past year as a professional gardener has been a difficult one. For one, the value of money has become sort of a ridiculous fact for me; I don't take it seriously. I can't. Also, my hands have become *rough enough to smooth down the splintered ends of freshly cut pine.

Anyways, I don't regret it. Being a gardener, when I get to just prune a camellia or rake up the stray bits off a gravel path, it lets me be someone I won't regret being. I get to care for a place and make it perfect, so my soul can stay intact.

Although there is surely a gap - a source of constant pressure and self-doubt - between my definition of living and the general expectations of a standard of living, I think I'm better off as a gardener or something like it because maybe that's who I am and changing for the sake of fitting in would be **awkward. I'm a gardener and I'm good at it. Time to pull ivy and pick up leaves for as long as I live.


*like sandpaper 
** or tormenting