Carol A. Hand
As I edit and garden, I often find myself humming this song by George Harrison – It Don’t Come Easy.
Weather, competing responsibilities, and shifting moods all present challenges. I wish I could totally ignore mainstream news, and some days, I only skim it so I know what the propaganda machines what us all to believe. But I can’t avoid the need to return to original historical sources as I edit. Coupled with the news media that clearly demonstrate how little we’ve learned from an egregiously brutal past, I sometimes find myself wishing for escape.
And then the song starts playing again in my mind. I smile and attend to what’s around me. There are no guarantees that anything will grow in my gardens, and no assurances that my final manuscript will ever be completed or published. But that’s not the point. What matters is breathing love into what I do in this moment and remembering that there are still so many unanticipated gifts and magical moments.
I don’t need to imagine a child’s joy because she is able to help plant gardens on a pleasant sunny day.
No, “it don’t come easy,” but the unexpected rewards won’t come otherwise.
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