More on Germination and Gardens and Spring

I knew while I was writing yesterday's post that there was some connection, some metaphor that was going to make things clearer for me in the midst of the stuff about incubation and germination, followed up by my foray into the garden to do some clearing of last year's dead debris, and it came to me while I was writing my morning pages this morning what the next phase in the thought process is (my process is not rapid... it takes bubbling-up time). When I awoke this morning, I saw there had been a hard frost overnight, and the thought came "I hope all the leafmould and twigs I removed yesterday from the beds hasn't exposed some young and tender things too suddenly and made them vulnerable"... Aha! - The reason why incubation takes time, obviously... young and tender things (creative ideas, maybe) need a bit of time in the dark, under the blanket of a protective layer of old stuff. And then, the day does come, has to come, when that protective layer becomes something that muffles, stifles, prevents straight growth, and has to be moved aside, has to be lifted, so that the air and light can reach the new stirrings, and call them into the sunshine. ... Thoughts such as these made it the perfect metaphor for my feeling of a stirring, a restlessness (and explains maybe why also in yesterday's post I refer to the changes in my life over the past 3 years) - The blanket/mantle of feelings and memories and ways of being that served me in the past, and protected me for a while is becoming uncomfortable, I am feeling the urge to shrug it off, and allow the new seeds to reach unimpeded for the light. There is a balance of timing to be achieved. Don't do it too early, but don't wait too long, either. Ah... finding the balance!

Grow, little seed, grow! And I am taking that Talmudic quote from chapter 1 as a motto for this:

Every blade of grass has its Angel that bends over it and whispers, "Grow, grow."