Tending the Garden of Your Day
Imagine your day as a garden.
A patch of earth gifted to you each morning.
Some days, it’s overgrown with weeds.
Obligations, worries, the clamor of a world that’s lost its way.
Other days, it blooms with moments of clarity, connection, and peace.
As women, we’re often handed a shovel and told to dig endlessly.
Care for family, climb career ladders, weather inflation’s bite…
All while wondering if our worth wilts beneath the load.
The secret?
You don’t have to tend every weed.
You can choose what to plant, nurture, and harvest.
You can craft a garden where purpose thrives.
I learned this the hard way.
After a divorce left me with $200 a month to raise three girls.
I buried myself in work.
Anger sprouting like thorns.
I sabotaged my own soil.
I made a choice after the two oldest graduated and were on their own.
I resigned from a stable job.
Instead, I abandon heels for boots.
I discovered organic gardening and medicinal plants.
Then 9/11 jolted me awake.
Now an empty nester.
I packed it up and moved to Western New York.
I turned to be in nature-literal and spiritual to replant my life.
Tending my days became less about survival.
It was more about what I wanted to grow.
Here’s how you can cultivate your own garden of priorities, rooted in authenticity and spirit.
Unearthing Your Seeds
Prioritization begins with knowing what seeds you hold.
Society hands us packets labeled “success”-money, status, perfection.
But those don’t always take root in our soil.
Dig deeper.
What’s your spirit craving?
For me, it was time for a quieter life, after years of career clamor.
Your seeds might be creativity, rest, or community.
Sit with yourself-pen in hand.
Open your heart.
List what matters most.
Not what should matter, but what does.
These are the blooms you’ll cultivate.
Clearing the Weeds
A garden choked with weeds can’t breathe.
Our days are the same.
News cycles preaching doom, tasks that serve someone else’s agenda.
These are weeds stealing your sunlight.
After 9/11, I stopped watering cynicism.
Started clearing space for healing.
Ask: Does this task nourish my purpose or drain my soil?
If it’s the latter, pull it out.
Say no to the meeting that could be an email.
Limit the scroll that fuels distrust.
Protect your garden’s edges.
It’s yours to tend.
Watering with Intention
Once you’ve cleared space, water what matters with intention.
This isn’t about rigid schedules.
It’s about presence.
When I was head deep into my career, I taught my daughters to pitch in.
It wasn’t because I demanded it.
But because our garden thrived when we all watered it.
Pick on priority daily.
Maybe it’s a family dinner or a quiet hour to dream…
And pour your energy there.
Intention is the rain that turns seeds into blooms.
If stress drowns you, step back.
Breathe.
Refocus on what’s growing.
The Roots of Spirit
Here’s where most advice misses the mark…
It ignores the roots beneath the surface.
Your spirit is the groundwater feeding your garden.
Without it, tasks feel hollow.
I found mine in nature’s embrace-fields of Western New York whispering worth back into me.
Connect to yours.
Whether through meditation, a walk, or a prayer to the universe.
Ask: What keeps my roots strong?
For my audience, distrustful of systems and craving peace, this is key.
Spirit isn’t religion-it’s the pulse of your being.
Tend it, and your priorities align naturally.
Harvesting Harmony
A garden isn’t just about planting;
It’s about what you reap.
Prioritizing isn’t checking off tasks.
It’s harvesting harmony.
One evening, I skipped a deadline to watch my oldest daughter’s game.
The joy we harvested outweighed any inbox guilt.
Balance isn’t perfect.
It’s fluid.
Some days, career blooms tallest.
Others, family takes the sun.
Reflect: Am I harvesting what I planted?
If not, adjust your tending.
Compromise when storms hit…
An unexpected bill, a friend’s need.
But keep your roots firm.
The Gardener’s Rest
Finally, rest.
A gardener doesn’t toil endlessly.
She sits to admire her work.
Burnout creeps in when we forget this.
After years of pushing, I learned to pause.
Tea in hand, watching snow fall.
Build rest into your garden.
It’s not lazy.
It’s sacred.
A 10-minute breather can reset your day’s yield.
You’re not a machine.
You’re a grower of life.
Final Sprouts
Tending your day’s garden isn’t about doing it all.
It’s about growing what matters.
Amid economic strain and societal chaos, you have the power to plant purpose.
You can clear weeds and harvest peace.
Start small.
One seed, one intention.
Then watch your life bloom.
You’re not just surviving;
You’re cultivating a legacy of balance and spirit.
Thank you for reading.
Novena signing out…