My garden has been my sanctuary this week.
I’ve felt sad this past seven days. Sad about the referendum result. Sad about the divisions that have appeared in our country. Sad for those leave voters who have admitted to being let down by those in power who misled them. Sad for the remain voters who feel lost. Sad for the leave voters who just want to get on with leaving. Sad for the immigrants who call our country home and who now feel unsettled or unsafe. Sad for the huge uncertainty that lies ahead. Sad for aggressive Facebook posts I’ve read from both sides of the debate. Sad for the angry elderly person who posted a picture of children in gas masks in the war and then called our young people names. Sad for the young people who wanted to remain and who feel their future has been unsettled by others.
I could go on. But I won’t just now.
It has affected me so much, that I have had to use all the grounding/mindfulness tricks I have, to bring me back to the now and remember what loveliness there is around me.
Where better to see beauty in the sadness than outdoors in nature. My little cultivated corner of the planet has provided me with lots of [soggy] gorgeousness this week. The rose garden was a full-on hit of colour and scent.
My little baby hydrangea plugs are teenagers now:
The little alliums are coming through now too:
And how can bright cornflowers not make you smile?
So there is still much to be happy about. I’m not going to fight the sadness – that doesn’t work for me – instead I will allow space for the happiness, for the beauty and for the love, and trust that as that grows it will cast a shadow over everything else.
Linking up with possibly the happiest linky on the inter web How does your garden grow? over at Fable and Folk.