At 5:45 am (CST) my alarm went off. The sun was up and I was feeling a little frisky, probably because my body’s clock is on EST instead local time. So, I hopped up, got dressed for the gym and proceeded to make my way outdoors for some early morning chit-chat with the Lord, before going to Inwood to sweat my life away.
As I stumbled towards the backyard of my childhood home, I realized that there is still a great deal of evidence left that eludes to the fact that a gardener once lived here. That gardener would be my father, Bobby Parker. I miss this guy ridiculously and sometimes more than other times. There are light pink and fuschia peonies growing, one yellow iris still remains from this years bunch and the hostas are exploding from the ground. Gorgeous! Dad would be beaming with pride and laying mulch at the same time.
Now, I don’t know about you, but when I was younger I didn’t have a great appreciation for flowers and plants. I knew that they were gorgeous, but getting down on the ground and putting them in the ground and watering them and pruning them wasn’t my forte. Both my father and my grandmothers tended their gardens daily, as a matter of fact, my Grammaw Cannie still gets out there when she’s able and toils with the earth. When you visit here, there are always fresh cut flowers in the house. All three of them had a fondness for their gardens. Now, I understand why.
Something is happening to me. My appetite for life is changing. My senses are becoming more acute and I have a greater desire to use them and respond to them more often in a positive life-bringing way. For years, I’ve been under the hypnosis of television and media, as many of us are. I’ve seen life through the lenses of others in Hi-Def, I might mention. Something about the media drives me nuts now. Wait, I take that back. EVERYTHING about the media drives me nuts! I can’t stand it!
Well Natasha, tell us how you really feel. 
I can’t stand that we’ve been persuaded to stay inside where it’s safe and comfortable or better yet, controllable. It’s predictable. You don’t have to put in any work. None. The only work you put in is convincing yourself that you don’t have the resources or the creativity to do the same thing, convincing yourself that you don’t have the skill or the time. It’s as if these people are telling us that we’re inadequate and that they can do it better. So just sit back and watch the experts. We’ve been given a false bill of goods. Enjoy life from the comfort of your home. It’s like the movie SURROGATES (which wasn’t very good I must say) where people sent a robotic representation of themselves into public and they stayed inside, protected from the events, catastrophes and possibilities that fill life.
We watch Victory Gardens and the Better Homes and Gardens Channel looking for inspiration of some sorts. The Food Network runs 24 hours a day as cooks prepare deliciously appetizing foods. Like they just know, I get so excited to see other people eating Emeril’s Gumbo or Martha Stewart’s Butter Cookies. Yeah right.
When did we lose sight of what’s real and what isn’t? When did we stop going outside? When did the boob tube become such a key part of our lives and why? Why, when we have real life at our finger tips do we choose to fall for this crap? (forgive me if your offended at my word choice)
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never thanked the Lord for TV, but when you think about the amount of time I’ve spent in front of it…
All I’m saying is get outside of your comfort/control zone and live a little…better yet live a lot. Plant some flowers, have a cooking extravaganza with friends. You’ve been given one life and everything you need to live it. So what in the world are you waiting for?
Tags: gardening, soapbox, television
You said your message beautifully and as an added bonus you included pictures too. I’m not much of a television watcher (days, weeks, and months can go by without me watching it) at times, I have let other things get into the way of stopping and smelling the flowers.
I was raised around gardens, but as I become older I do have a healthier appreciation for them, and I try to pass on some of the excitement with my seven-year old daughter.