Uprooting

I was heading out tonight to my twelve-step meeting and saw that the landscapers my landlords have had working on the property all weekend had torn out my beautiful (despite the weird beige disease the leaves have picked up) johnny-jump-ups and pansies from the big pot by our apartment's front door and replaced them with these ugly (to me) big-shiny-leaved impatiens just like all the other impatiens they've planted around.

Now, granted, the property, including that planter, is my landlords' but I loved those damn flowers and have had the johnny-jump-ups in particular for three years. They'd finally gotten to the point where they'd filled the pot with the help of the pansies I'd put in last year.

After a brief rather upset exchange with my landlord (not at him, at the situation, he just pays the landscapers and lets them do whatever), he finally showed me where they'd put my uprooted flowers. They were already too dried out to replant and revive, of course.

That's when I lost it, apologized to my landlord for being so emotional, took the plants up to our deck in back and started crying. I've got them lying in a pot now hoping they'll go to seed and resurrect next year.

Of course it didn't take long for me, Ms. Jungian Psychoanalyst, to figure out this was about a lot more than flowers being uprooted. It's about conventional society destroying what's different, not seeing the value and beauty in it. It's about the current US administration stomping all over independent thought, freedom, and dissent. It's about male authority destroying and forbidding the work of women (Stasa sent me an article dealing with Vatican idiocies today). And of course it's about my efforts at growing something alive being destroyed. (Okay, now I'm tearing up again. And emotional though I am, I don't cry often.) Yes, this brought up the damn fertility issue on top of everything else. Tomorrow I find out whether my latest blood test results indicate that there's a chance my body will allow an in-vitro fertilization cycle. Although last time everything seemed okay and we know that was a crashing failure.

So the good news (you know me, Ms. Sunshine and Optimism) is:
God in Her Wisdom gave me an opportunity to fully live and express my frustration, anger and grief over the neocons, the patriarchy, and my own beautiful-and-imperfect body. Thanks, Mom. 8-)

I went to my meeting, shared my story and got lots of love and understanding and empathy, as I'd hoped and sorta expected, because that's what we're about. I also got reminders from many sources of all I do have--a wonderful husband, a lovable wildly affectionate cat, loving and supportive friends and family, an amazing spiritual life, and, well, the universe. Some of it is pretty shitty (and that's insulting to a useful fertilizer!) but overall, it's a good life.

Oh, and today's my parents' anniversary. I am endlessly grateful for my always loving and supportive dad and mom. I love you so much, Mom and Dad!