Detail from “Lost,”a multi-media work by Marian Methner
During a discussion about growing up, my then four year old grandson Zebedee asked me, “Gran, can a grown-up grow down?” I thought for a moment and said, “Yes, Zeb, sometimes we need to grow down.”
Transplanting a plant that has outgrown its pot comes to mind. This requires untangling and even cutting off some roots. Sometimes giving the plant a vigorous thump and a good shake to loosen old soil is required before placing the plant in new culture – live soil – humus, the root of the word human – where roots can spread out and grow down deep to receive nourishment for new growth.
The loss of the young and carefree part of myself leaves me looking for opportunity to discover meaning, a turning inward, and yet a being outside time. I’ve been asking myself, who was that woman who loved sliding down wet jungle paths in pouring rain and loved teaching college students the basics of psychology and human development; who was the 20, 30 and 40 something woman who began many hospice and other family support and art programs? What shone through her? What lies and truths remain in her bones?
When we fear something, we don’t reach out and risk, but when we don’t reach out, we don’t get burned but we reinforce the fear. At one time, overwhelmed with fears, I thought falling apart would lead to total dissolution and then I fell right into the arms of a group of loving women, family and friends.
It has been a terrific few weeks; Barb and I playing with Art, planting potatoes with Jerry and witnessing his excitement when the bees arrived for the hive he lovingly prepared in the meadow. Today Barb and I are driving from Richmond to Baltimore to spend the day at the American Visionary Art Museum.
All the people I’ve been with so far enter into lively dialogue in my head. On Thursday I’ll meet a friend in Northern, Virginia to drive to Vermont to meet another friend – Broads on A Mission discussing shared community.
At the end of the month I’ll return to the North West for a few weeks. THEN it’s beginning to look like I’ll be transplanted into a garden community. Stay tuned…