Last year, from the refuge of a safe and stable place, I wrote about the intersection of crip time and garden time. I described how being in the garden does not cure me of chronic illness or neurodivergence, but it does create space and time for me to exist outside of the disabling constrictions of capitalist hetero white supremacist patriarchal ableist time. I wrote, “It reassures me, when I am not able to be in the world as I want to be, that my life remains useful, embedded, productive, vital.”
So much of this resonated and I'm thinking of you. This, in particular, is beautifully said: "How does one hold the inherent and always-impending futurity of the garden from within the stasis of such exhaustion?"
I’m sorry you’re experiencing this. It’s hard to comment because I don’t want to bring myself into this too much, but I experienced a few years of not being able to get into the garden and it was both devastating to not be able to be in the garden and watch plants die because I couldn’t give them care and also reassuring to see that the garden was mostly still there and thriving without me. It felt especially tough since the garden is a place of healing, but I couldn’t get to it. These mysterious conditions are devastating and excruciatingly frustrating. For me it’s been almost 9 years of trying to unravel a complex puzzle with a cause and effect that is often impossible to follow.
So much of this resonated and I'm thinking of you. This, in particular, is beautifully said: "How does one hold the inherent and always-impending futurity of the garden from within the stasis of such exhaustion?"
Thank you so much Roxani, that really means a lot!
I’m sorry you’re experiencing this. It’s hard to comment because I don’t want to bring myself into this too much, but I experienced a few years of not being able to get into the garden and it was both devastating to not be able to be in the garden and watch plants die because I couldn’t give them care and also reassuring to see that the garden was mostly still there and thriving without me. It felt especially tough since the garden is a place of healing, but I couldn’t get to it. These mysterious conditions are devastating and excruciatingly frustrating. For me it’s been almost 9 years of trying to unravel a complex puzzle with a cause and effect that is often impossible to follow.
Wishing you continued improvement.