Last week, I read that overgrown shrubs and hedges need to be cut to the ground and dug up. It is best to start with young, new plants. This was sad news to me. I had trimmed the row of hedges at the street to waist high, but I stopped there. It was safe; I thought it would give me more options.
Now, I know that I have to cut them down and take them out. I don’t want to do it. It was much more comfortable knowing no one could see in. The moment I cut them down, I’ll have to admit that the hedges I have grown around my heart can’t just be trimmed down to a decent height either. I am going to have to cut them down and dig them out the root.
I don’t know exactly what that means, I just know it scares me. Deep inside, I want to be openly in the light. I don’t just want the light to bask the tip top of my life, I want my whole body to see and feel the warmth, the love. I want the light to penetrate my heart.
All morning, I’ve tried to keep my gaze off the hedges, but my eyes keep going to them. I am trying to get my courage up to cut them down. I keep hearing in my head all the reasons for not doing it. Finally, I know it is time. If I don’t do it now, I will have to live with a whole bunch of should haves. I grab the chain saw and head up the hill. I start intentionally cutting each stalk as close to the ground as I can. It is hard. At times, I think I am going to be sick, but maybe it is the heat. And then, it is done.
I step across the street to look at my trimmed property. I know that the glass is half full folks would say it looks clean now. To tell you the truth, it looks barren and vulnerable to me. My heart sinks a little. I know that’s how I will feel. I am also glad. I can take a photo of it with the 4th of July flag. The boy scouts will be along any time to collect it. It makes it not so barren.
Later in the evening, I run an errand. When I return to the house, I am amazed at how open and inviting my land looked, almost like a park. More than anything, it looks normal. I think this is what I intended to do all along; cut the front hedge so everyone could enjoy my property. My plan was to leave it in place until everything behind it was perfect. I am afraid that is what I am doing in my life. I am existing in a comfortable place until I was strong enough, bright enough to blossom into the world. My property has taught me to live in a ‘safe’, ‘comfortable’ world, you don’t have the resources to really grow, your roots can’t take hold to keep you steady and you become worthless as you stretch yourself so thin to reach the light. And only the top catches the light. To really grow, to really blossom, I need all parts of me to bask in the light.
Even more, I would have never seen the landscaping possibilities for my land if I hadn’t taken the hedge down first.
Now I have the courage to clear at the street to the property line. I don’t know how long it will take or what I will be facing to complete the task.