This afternoon I’m doing some work for church: phone calls, emails, studying, and the like. Sitting at the counter in my kitchen, my eyes often drift outside towards my garden, worrying about the number of weeds and dying plants in my garden. To a gardener, it’s an eyesore. Some of the flowers and tomatoes are hanging in there, but most of the veggies have given up for the year.

“I need to get out there and WEED!” I think to myself. But the connection between time on my calendar, rainy forecasts, and then landing case #3 of COVID this week (yay me) put the kibosh on that! The weeds will have to wait. The critters will have a feast of slumping tomato vines and tired-looking zucchini. What became my agenda for me this week was… resting, coughing, and hydrating. I’ll get to the garden before the first snow. (And please, Lord, let it be a late snow!)

Sometimes, just getting it done will be good enough. Completion over perfection. Pull up MOST of the weeds. Haul out MOST of the recycling in the yard. Get MOST of the prep done for winter. Click. Check. Done. Just making it through the week. Truth be told, many things in life can be just “done” so that time is better spent on the people and things we love.

I reflected recently on my tendency to want to do things perfectly, or not at all. It’s a hangover from years and years of scales and arpeggios and building repertoire as a pianist and vocalist. The rules of interpretation are exacting. Consistently practicing, reworking little glitches, studying and analyzing the challenging sections… it’s all part of the discipline of being a musician. But this focus on perfection can stop me from even trying if I don’t think I can do it well. (Yes, I know it’s faulty reasoning, and there can be exceptions. My humanity is showing.)

I took a baby step towards regaining functional mobility: I’m back in the gym these days, working on eating better, sleeping consistently, finding joy in the things I love, and regaining some flexibility and balance. I’m finding I am stronger than I think I am, and that if it is a hard day (physically or otherwise) there are ways to modify my workout to meet my fitness goals. But it is better to show up and try than not try at all. And sometimes that means accepting the reality that my body needs an injury time-out. As the “Nick-ism”* on my mirror says: “Be kind to Deb!”

Over the last month, I have had multiple lessons in trusting in the Divine for peace, for direction, and for emotional comfort. I didn’t like the repetition (to be honest,) but since apparently I need refresher courses, I guess it was meant to be. I’m still getting a sense of who Deb is now or is becoming in this wild and wonky world of cancer survivorship and widowhood. I have had down and ugly-cry days and I’ve had joyful ones. I have been annoyed with life in general, and drivers on the Beltway in specific. I am overcome with thankfulness and awareness that now, more than ever, I don’t walk this journey alone.

I have another blog post coming soon where I will be reflecting on some of these lessons from the past year. I’m still struggling to put into words what I have gained. I want to be faithful to my story, and to everyone who has been incredibly kind to me. I’m struggling to capture it all and know that it will be enough when I get it finished.

So if you are living a life full of weeds and half-done plans, trust me when I say that “good enough” is OK. You can keep building on what you try to do today. You can find a quiet place to think about the challenges you face, and where you plan to go next. And if you need some physical labor to help with your meditation and reflection, come on over. I have a garden full of weeds to pull!

Until then, look for the beauty, hang on to hope, and keep walking the journey with those you care about and trust.

On the adventure with you –

Deb

* Nick is my patient and encouraging fitness coach.