Betrayal

I woke up this morning thinking about betrayal and all its meanings. We planted seeds that we expected to produce peppers and tomatillos, and what we got was nightshade. Not just any weed, but a noxious one. So we've pulled up all the would-be peppers and the soil now sits fallow.

The seeds appear to be fine; they're from a reputable supplier. But the soil we planted in was soil we'd dug up from another part of the yard - perhaps not the best for planting seeds and clearly full of stuff we didn't know about, didn't want.

What a surprise it was when the realization hit. The disappointment. Some sadness, because we were so looking forward to what we would produce. It's interesting when you expect, hope for, anticipate, one thing and something completely different happens.

Kind of like my life right now. The seeds we planted 13 years ago both flourished and faltered at different times. We started out open, raw, honest, and grew close through sharing our deepest selves. Over the years, we've both developed and lost different tools, some effective, some not, and didn't always know the right ones to use. Perhaps sometimes it was easier to not use any at all and just wait and see. What I wish we'd have done sooner was to get help so what we created could flourish with tending and care.

Now I'm trying to tend my own soil and clear away debris. Yet there are still garden chores to tend to, responsibilities to share, a household to address and cats who need a lot of attention and love. All of this must be done with some kind of harmony.