When my garden grows...

My cutting garden looked beautiful and sad simultaneously when I returned home from a week away. My Zinnias were more bountiful and colorful than in previous years, affirming my decision to plant them in a different spot this season. But they almost looked as if something large had flattened them in areas -- oh they were still blooming, but they were laying down! 

From my garden.

I am a complete gardening-novice even though this is my third growing year. I tweaked my garden set-up this spring to make it manageable throughout our very busy softball summer but I still am guessing mostly.  😁  I have spent several mornings outside this week attempting to determine if the growing-far-out-of-their-container pumpkins had somehow aggressively flattened my Zinnia. They have not. (Though the aggressive growth of these vines makes me think we will be able to stage our own "Jack and the Beanstalk" soon...."Shraders and the Pumpkin Vine"???) 

I brought hair from my amazing hairdresser's recycling bin to sprinkle around the corners to keep away any deer, fox, or whatever might be using my Zinnias as their nightly bed.

And then this morning I made a discovery....

In addition to Zinnias in my cutting bed....I also threw in some seeds that I thought were Black-eyed Susans. I thought the seed were old. I have tried unsuccessfully to grow these for years. In my ooh-I-have-space-I-will-just-throw-these-in-the-corner gardening style, I assumed they would never take hold. And clearly didn't notice that what I was planting was a vine-variety. A vine. And since I just threw these seed in last minute, I failed to provide something a vine desperately needs -- something to climb. 

And of course, THIS is the year the seed took hold. And then because I didn't provide the support necessary, the plant used what it could reach -- the stems of my beautiful, bountiful Zinnia.

As I attempted this morning to free the Zinnia, and yet save the vines, I couldn't help but think about how often we latch on to anything in the absence of the thing we actually need. We scramble for the support, reaching for whatever is near. And sometimes, I fear we wind around things that can no way support our needs, stabilize our growth, or encourage us to reach our full potential.

And we flatten that support just like my Zinnia.

One such example for me: moving a couple times in these last few years has left me seeking fellowship through social media -- and feeling bereft when a pandemic, politics, and polarization leaves me feeling a lack of connection. I need real relationship to fill that void. I recognize that. 

Goodness, I am sure I don't need to list all the ways I fail to grow with the right support....or fail to offer the right support so those in my care can grow. But I do keep circling back to a quote about disability from Judy Heumann, disability rights activist, who said "Disability only becomes a tragedy when society fails to provide the things we need to lead our lives."

Well-supported cucumber vine.

Can you see that? The tragedy is not in the disability. The tragic thing is in the lack of supports Benjamin and Mason require to be contributing members of society. Simple things like barrier-free access to buildings still elude us all over the country. Transportation that allows Benjamin to stay in his wheelchair -- from our van to buses, trains, and for the love, airplanes -- often feels like we are asking for the moon! Finding care attendants to help him get dressed, eat, meet his hygiene needs is a constant struggle.

He and Mason both need the right supports to reach their full potential. But my goodness, don't we all?

I scavenged around my yard early today for supplies to re-direct the vine to something more sturdy, more able to provide support, more likely to help my little flowering vine reach its full potential. 

Time will tell if this support allows my vine to grow.

If you need me, I will be here working to ensure Benjamin and Mason have the support they need to do the same!