As I squatted dirty faced and bug spray perfumed over my legume garden this weekend, hand feeding freshly-picked snow peas into mouth, again hand feeding freshly-picked snow peas into mouth like some hunched intently focused chimpanzee slurping ants off a twig, I contemplated my opportunity for creative self-actualization.
For the past 5 years science and singing have been like rather, rinse, repeat--my sole source of fulfillment and satisfaction.
I have been taking a hiatus from singing for the last month (which might change with a chorus part in G&S's P.O.P.) to concentrate on other things.
Namely, chilling out and exercising. And gardening.
I have several plots with various themes. There is the eggplant, various peppers and tomatillo plot X2. There is the exotic tomato plot, the hybrid tomato plot, the heirloom tomato plot, the exotic leaf and head lettuce/spring garden plot, the spindly cucurbit plot. Also the 2 culinary herb plots and the aforementioned legume plot. Of course who could forget the annual bed consisting of zinnia, aster, cosmos, marigold, salvia?
I like growing things. I like being dirty.
Is this a distraction from my destiny? i thought as I sipped freshly brewed mint tea as the bruised mint so garishly green in the scalding water, released bits of floating leaf into my mouth at 9:30 PM as the last blue twilight disappeared and grass blended into my hands blended into the empty seed packets blended into that gray-blue before the real night lit by the moon takes over.
So much guilt.