Rushing versus the Garden
A few weeks ago I had to visit the RMV, one of those unavoidable don’t-want-to-but-have-to scenarios. Thankfully I didn’t have a packed schedule that day. Knowing how these things work, I was prepared to wait. After checking in, I sat down with my iced coffee, read a book, and occasionally squinted at a screen to see if my appointment number was called. End to end the experience still took about two hours, but it felt almost enjoyable (the RMV! enjoyable!) because I wasn’t pressed and took advantage of the down time to relax.
When I stepped outside of the building, it was mid-day and already getting hot. Any other time I would have gone straight home and that would have been the end of it. Buoyed by the good vibes, instead I walked a ways down the long park that stretches from downtown towards the water. If nothing else, it would get me a bit closer to home when I decided I’d had enough. Along the way, I saw monuments and plantings, misting fountains, people playing lacrosse. People everywhere, enjoying the day. I kept going, wound up walking most of the way home, stopping along the way to have lunch. The end of the appointment turned into a micro adventure that boosted my mood for the rest of the day. I got to have an even better day because I wasn’t rushing to the next thing on my todo list.
I’ve gotten a lot of practice exercising the wisdom of patience (and reaping its rewards) tending to my small container garden. This year I planned to expand it - ground cover, wildflowers, a climbing net - and was excited to put those ideas into action as soon as possible. A verdant oasis, in the city! But anyone who has ever gardened knows you can be too early and/or do too much. You wait to see - did the perennials survive the winter? Will these seeds germinate? I can create better conditions for the garden, but I can’t influence the weather. It is not entirely under my control, and the only thing I’ll get if I plant too early is a dead plant. The benefit of this enforced pause is that it gives me time to think and come up with more ideas, like a better way to anchor the climbing net once the morning glories finally sprout.
I think we often have a bias to rush rather than a “bias for action” because we just want to declare a thing done (queue the confetti!), and move onto the next. Like anyone else, I enjoy crossing things off a list. But I think it’s much more impactful to have a bias for intentional action - like letting something rest, making considered decisions, and building over time. Builders and creators appreciate the process and find joy in doing (we often call that “craft”). In my garden and in my art, I am going to enjoy the doing longer.