This a really strange post to write. Has certainly been on my mind a great deal; all meshed with assorted feelings. There’s sadness, guilt; frustration and pain too. I wasn’t sure about sharing this, and that comes back to that horrible feeling of shame. Allotment shame.
It’s been hanging around me for a while. A horrible grey-green cloud, that has been really unshakeable.
For the last couple of years, I’ve struggled-there, I’ve said it-to get a grip with the allotment. My attention, my focus was divided by other things. My time, has been used up by other activities. So I’ve been disconnected from my allotment, pulled in other directions. I know that I’ve grumbled and mumbled, that I’ll come back and things. It felt weird.
So last week, I feel that burgeoning sadness tip over a bit. I was overwhelmed and annoyed by comments made by others. Comments that really made me feel sad, feel hurt. Feel judged too.
I had my own process. Whether it is stubbornness, I don’t know. Giving it up, is not on my radar.
I’ve seen my allotment blossom, bloom and be productive. It has been an oasis of calm. It was fruitful. There was so much that I took from the allotment, that I put into it. It’s difficult for me to be specific, and describe that connection. It is part of me, makes me who I am. It would be wrenching to leave it aside.
So I’ve been chewing over posting. I’ve not posted in a while, and it has mainly been about books. Making me feel a little disconnected and disconnected, from the gardening universe. There is a lot in this blog, that has come from the allotment. Given as to why I started it, and why it was read. I guess I ‘m recalibrating as I reclaim, or try to reclaim, the plot. It does feel overwhelming. I have a lot to do, I have a lot of space! That and I’ve had help in making a dent with it. I had two very willing family members give me their time and energy.
There is a time and a space forming in my world and life, where this allotment needs love. I need to love it, to be me again. I need to carve out that space that being on an allotment involves. That which nurtures me, and helps me grow.
It’s weird writing this post. As though writing or calling an old friend, who has been absent for a while. To restore a meaningful connection to something profoundly valuable. I don’t quite know where to start, how I feel or where I want to go, to be honest.