Bloom Again

As an amateur gardener (okay, a goofball who can’t distinguish most flowers from weeds) I recently dead-headed our drift roses in an attempt to have them bloom again. It worked. Then my son-in-law recommended doing the same to our cannas. Success – new blooms! Nature (God) has a way of bringing new life where it was once lost.

I was thinking about times when I have “bloomed again”. Usually, it’s after some disappointment or heartbreak. Things seems bleak and I feel lost but somehow through “pruning” and a little self-care, I find the sun and the nutrients, and my life is renewed. Still the process is often painful.

I worked for the same company for over 20 years. I rose through the ranks beginning as a Project Manager and was promoted to Senior Project Manager, then Operations Manager and finally the Senior Vice President of Operations for North America and Europe. Sounds pretty impressive, doesn’t it? Well, that all came crashing down when the President of our division came into my office one afternoon and closed the door. Our company had recently been acquired by a larger firm and as my boss put it so succinctly, “I don’t want you to get caught flat-footed.” Restructuring – that dirty word that meant someone in our corporate offices was looking to cut positions and salaries, probably to boost their own salary – had reared its ugly head. My boss’s advice: “Get your resume in order.” He didn’t say, “You’ve been a good friend, a confidant, a valued member of my team and I’m fighting to keep you”. It was pretty obvious that he was looking to save his own skin, and I was being considered collateral damage. I know all is fair in love and war, and I guess work, but when you’ve devoted yourself to an organization for two decades and you get treated like yesterday’s news it hurts (mainly my pride but there were major concerns about my finances, too).

The following week my boss came back into my office with a proposition. I could relocate to another division. As luck would have it, there was an opening for a Project Manager. The proposal: commute 5-1/2 hours from home once or twice a month, accept a position as a Senior Project Manager and keep my V.P. salary (which either meant that the faceless corporate decision-makers were being benevolent, or I was being underpaid – I’m going with the later). Regardless, the paychecks kept coming, and I found a new team to work with who surpassed my expectations. We worked very well together and became the best team in the division. We truly liked one another. We turned around a struggling account. Within two years, I was once again promoted and was able to retire with dignity. But what I learned during my “pruning” was this: I already had dignity. The position, the office, the titles meant nothing compared to the relationships that I had with the people I worked with. I was afforded a chance to “bloom again” and I bloomed brighter and stronger than ever before. None of this was my own doing. The incredible people I worked with in my new assignment revitalized me. I could have remained resentful and bitter, but they carried me to a better place. I will be forever grateful for their professionalism, work ethic and kindness to the “old” new guy.

So, when you’re feeling stuck or think you’re done, don’t give up. When life deals you a blow, don’t lose hope. Prayer helps. So does the love of friends and family. Clip away your ego. Trim back your pride. Hold on to what is important. Remember with a little pruning you can bloom again.

I did. And so do my drift roses and cannas. God is good!

Peace,

Denis

Gardening – it sounds so much better than “pulling weeds”…

This past weekend we finally got around to working in our gardens and flower beds. We’ve had an especially rainy spring and other than mowing the lawn between rainstorms we hadn’t done any real yard work yet this season. The task seemed overwhelming.

I rarely find working in the yard therapeutic. I know folks who swear that they can’t wait until they can “get their hands in the dirt”. But usually it just seems like work to me and this time was no exception – ugh! I started by pulling the “run-away” mint that my next door neighbor planted several years ago. According to Neighbor Bob (who is one of the nicest and most sincere guys that I know) he had no idea it would spread like wildfire and take over our side yard as well as his. Well at least it pulls easily and smells nice. Then there was a dead holly bush to remove. There were dead heads to cut-off of the peonies and hydrangea. And while Deb was pulling weeds out of the landscaping in the front yard, I “girded my loins” and made my way to the dreaded terrace.

If you squint your eyes it doesn't look too bad

The Terrace – sounds lovely, doesn’t it? Our backyard is terraced upwards and is full of shrubs, trees and perennials planted by the previous owner. She planted for seasonal color and variety – so we have red bud trees, jonquils, daffodils, and crocus; followed by lilacs and forsythia. As spring continues we see crabapple tree blossoms, daisies, peonies, iris, roses and lilies-of-the-valley. As summer approaches so do the hibiscus, tiger lilies and day lilies, along with the crepe myrtle and hydrangea. Fall brings the aster and the burning bushes in all their glory. Amidst this entire splendor are WEEDS. Miserable, lousy, rotten, stinking weeds!

I take a two-thronged approach toward weed control. I pull the good-for-nothing invaders (until my hands are sore and I’ve exhausted all known curse words) AND then I try to smother them with mulch. The weed-pulling and mountains of mulch are only temporary solutions at best. I’ve tried weed-killer sprays in the past but I usually only end up killing flowers or the occasional shrubbery. After a weekend (or two) of working at it ‘The Terrace’ usually looks okay from a distance. And that’s good enough for me. But of course the process needs to be repeated throughout the growing season.

I’ve come to the conclusion that people with BEAUTIFUL GARDENS must be mentally ill masochists who have nothing better to do with their time than to make normal people feel inadequate about their failure to control the weeds in their “poor excuse of a garden”. Because no matter how many gardening magazines or how-to books I’ve read or shows I’ve watched on HGTV, I still find myself pulling weeds. They never show the “behind the scenes” photos in those magagzines or on the Home & Garden shows of the poor slob that’s got sweat dripping down to his garden clogs. You’ll never see Martha Stewart slathered in calamine lotion because she’s mistakenly pulled poison sumac with her bare hands – she’s got some flunky doing that grunt work.

So as much as I’ve tried (and I have tried) I have yet to derive any bucolic pleasure from gardening. It’s just hot, itchy, back-breaking, weed-pulling work. Lately I’ve been toying with the idea of green asphalt or indoor-outdoor carpet. And who decided which ones are weeds and which ones are wildflowers anyway?

This coming weekend I’ll be “gardening” again – of course that just means pulling more weeds…

Peace,

Denis