This week did nothing for my motivation. The cherry blossoms are in peak bloom. Their pink, fluffy, petals are falling softly from trees that I just want to cuddle up in. The sun has been out. The kids have been… crazy. Sofie just wants to be outside, and so do I. Henry had shots this week. And, my sister is coming tomorrow, which has us all buzzing with excitement, trying to figure out all the things I can shove into less than 24 hours with her.
In the moments when I am not running around trying to cook, clean, reclean, help Sofie clean her room, workout, practice French via Duo Lingo (making sure my score is far beyond Ben’s) and work (which is really lacking right now since I’m so distracted), I’ve been living in my mind garden.
In my mind garden, the grass is a deep, vibrant green. And it’s cool to the touch and soft enough to lay in without a blanket. I run my hands through it and watch the kids play. The flowers around me are perfect because, in my mind garden, I have a green thumb or a gardener. There are roses climbing the walls, tulips growing wild, camellias hiding the view of any other houses. I am reading a book, enjoying the cool spring day in a sundress and cardigan, and I am glancing up every so often to catch the light dancing across our solar heated pool. I’m sure I’ve talked about this before.
My mind garden is my escape for now. It’s where I go when things are getting too noisy. It’s my current mediation of choice, the way for me to find joy in the chaos. It’s my visualization to get me motivated to put in the work, so that one day soon, after a good day of hard work, I can actually sit in a garden that lives beyond my consciousness.