Growing At Your Own Pace

I was in my garden one dreary morning admiring the flowers, tall tomato plants, herbs and pulling out stubborn weeds. I took a moment to reflect on what it means to "grow at your own pace" and how sacred and special it is and how to honor that process. 

Nature does not rush, though it will compete for space. For example, this year I planted cucumbers and string beans together (trial and error) and it looks like a beautiful disaster on the vine! The darker green pea leaves are growing thin and dainty upwards, while the thick stubborn cucumber vines travel down and sideways, taking over all the space in its path. 

I always smile at the eagerness of cucumber plants to cover ground. Cucumbers will travel and climb by growing smaller lighter green vines that grab onto anything and everything! They can quickly take over a space if you let them! I think we can all relate to the chaos of the cucumber.

Then there are those, like the peas, who go at a slower pace. It appears to be a more quiet, introverted pace that has patience. It doesn't need to rush, it just needs to find the light and let the sun do all the work. It doesn't try to take over, it simply exists. And to exist simply is such a beautiful gift.

In my opinion, our healing and growth journey is a combination of the two. Sometimes it is fast and quick, like ripping off the bandaid, and other times it's slow and painful, like birthing a child. 

I invite you to reflect on your growth. Where were you two years ago? Five years ago? How have you grown? What challenges have you had to endure? Where have you had to be really brave? Where have you crumbled? How did you get back up? How are you different? 

Journaling or meditating on these questions can be a great way to tap into the subconscious mind and to offer "proof"  for the logical mind.  

Growth can be hard and uncomfortable and scary. As I admired all the bright yellows and pinks and purples from my flowers, I noticed that some are dying away as others are just beginning to blossom, but both are from the same stem. Life and death all contained in one single stem.