It is not the right time of the year to plant seeds.
I had two farming grandfathers. I know this. I have also lived in the Midwest most of my life. The farmers are getting ready to pull out the combines, not the plows or planters.
But I have found that planting seeds in potting soil and seeing the seeds germinate has a healing quality to it. Tonight, after we wrapped up our evening meal at Olive Garden, I told my husband I needed some more seeds.
That is code for I need a distraction.
I have no reason for PTSD to surface today. But, it does that sometimes.
We stopped by Rural King, and I scanned the low stock of seeds. Even the rack had a label on it that said, “Do not inventory.” Basically, there is no need to reorder this product until 2018.
Nobody wants seeds right now — except me.
John suggested jalapeños. What the heck. Jalapeños it is.
I have a counselor who is a specialist in sexual trauma and delayed onset PTSD. I see her every other week. She asks me frequently what I do for fun.
Sometimes, you don’t need something that is fun.
Sometimes, you just need something that is different. Out-of-step with everyone else. Something that grows and doesn’t know that bad stuff happens to children. Something that isn’t going to control you. It will just shrivel up if the soil isn’t right or it gets too much sun.
Sometimes, you just need to watch things that have a cycle. Something that grows for you. It gives. That is what it was created to do.
As night falls and it is almost time to go to bed, I wish I had more daylight–especially when I have a new packet of seeds.
It doesn’t matter very much that I won’t be eating them. It is just a positive action. Planting. It heals something that died, something I am trying to resurrect.
Seeds are good.
And sometimes, they grow and defy the odds–especially when they have a little pot indoors where they are protected and nourished.
I suppose that is how my counselor feels when I dig in my heels and determine to get better and stronger.
There is a difference between me and my plants. I am not growing for her.
I am growing for me.