In the early morning I head to the garden and walk the rows. Here, mud finds its way into my coffee and sun onto my skin, some days before I've even spoken a word. I have this theory that if I tend 2-3 rows per day, I can stay on top of things. Like most theories, it works beautifully when actually implemented, but I tend to bounce between here and Vermont so some weeks it falls apart. Still, it’s a great practice to return to again and again. Reliable. The season is moving along and we continue to plant, but we’re always planting so that’s never really done until November when the garlic goes in. Rain’s held off for a week or so which means those tender starts and seeds need assistance. Our watering system is nothing more than a sprinkler moved around as needed. It’s not ideal, but it’s what we have and truthfully, we don’t water much other than the first couple weeks after planting any given seed or start, then we let the rain take over, which for the most part, we see at least one inch of weekly. Give or take. The last couple of mornings I’ve put the sprinkler to work as I plant or otherwise tend my daily rows, and both days I’ve been joined by the coolest little hummingbird who can’t seem to believe his good fortune of early morning sun showers. You’ve never seen such frolicking, dive-bombing, and mid-air summersaulting. It’s hysterical and brings me an unreasonable amount of joy.
. . .
I’m four days out from quitting (personal) Facebook and I have no idea what’s going on in the world. It's a little alarming how much distance I feel between four days ago and now. World's apart. I didn’t think I was on Facebook that much, but it is where I followed news outlets and read daily happenings from around the world. I’m not entirely comfortable in this bubble. On the one hand, I’m happier. Not blissfully ignorant, more like: Wow, for the first time in ages I’m not constantly fending off rage and hopelessness. I’m not all that familiar with rage, and maybe what I’ve become acquainted with in recent months is not true rage, but as of late, “rage” has been a relentless abuser, a tsunami pummeling through my physical and spiritual being, manifesting in crippling ways. It’s been the worst kind of Groundhog Day. Not once has this rage felt constructive or motivating. Instead, I’ve felt depleted, mistrusting, and in the darkest moments, hopeless. Rage doesn’t work in the longterm. Maybe even the short-term.
On the other hand, this new found freedom leaves me feeling useless and ill-informed. As if my own occasional political contributions to the echo chamber that is Facebook were somehow useful or informative. They weren’t. But my departure didn’t really have to do with that, or even with reading a variety of ideas and beliefs from friends and family. My departure was mostly prompted by Facebook’s practice of placing (to my mind) cruel and disturbing articles in my feed that people I know interacted with, either by commenting or “liking.” I’d see their comments and their “likes” and it was depressing as hell. I gather they feel the same about seeing my worldview plastered across their feed. So, I finally beat feet outta there. It was time, and it feels unbelievably good. (For the record, I don't have a moral dilemma with Facebook, it's fine and has it's place. You guys know I'm not one to pull up a pedestal so this is not me making any kind of social media proclamation. I'm just reflecting on one of the things that made the chopping block as I'm figuring out some stuff, and regaining a sense of wellbeing that has diminished over the last several months.)
Now it’s just me and that hummingbird hanging out beneath first light. Both unaware of life beyond the garden rows, of the world on fire. The thing is, one of us is okay with that. Rightfully, he only cares about his next mid-air summersault under droplets of water, while the other member of this early morning duo feels like she’s leveraged her privilege by opting out and shutting down. She hopes there is a middle ground to be found. In the meantime, she is experiencing a kind of peace she hasn’t felt in a long time.