When my depression hits hard it is easy to stop caring.
Get out of bed? What for?
Start the day? No thanks.
So I aim small. Go outside. Make a cup of tea and go sit in the sun. Just wander. Look and maybe water the pots.
My husband would struggle to get me to leave the house so he started encouraging me to collect seeds and cuttings on our walks. Bribery. Leave the house and go hunting.
We would put little miss in her pram and collect as we walked. Ooh a Jacaranda seed pod. And a kurrajong seed pod here. Our toddler son would scan below verge trees for seeds.
My experimental project gave me purpose where I had none. Hubby collected plastic pots from a bin near his work. I washed them and began to experiment. It cost nothing but gave so much in return.
Garden experiments kept me alive.
My father in law showed me how to snip the end off a mango seed to grow.
It has been the best thing I have ever done for myself. To grow plants from cuttings and seeds for our 5 acres.
Watching as a cutting develops new shoots gives me hope.
Seeing a plant survive where it probably shouldn’t facinates me.
Why would I want to die when I have a massive project to spend my life experimenting with?
My favourite success of all has been our Moreton Bay Fig trees. We climbed old trees to scoop a few tiny seedlings out of crevices in branches. I have nurtured them.
Of all my plants these give me the most hope for my future. Why? Because they are long lived. Even though they won’t be massive in my lifetime I want to live to see them grow and change.
The three we planted are the same age as our son (he is now 4). They remind me constantly of my children. To try and try and try again because I want (like the trees) to be around to see them grow.
What do you do to cultivate hope and curiousity in your life?