WHAT IF DEATH IS NEW GROWTH?

I am an inveterate dead-header of my flowers, but not following the rock group. My favorite activity early in the a.m. is to cruise around our deck, clipping spent blossoms, watering, and encouraging new growth, 'cause you don't want your plants to set seeds which makes them think, "Bloody hell, I am so done with blooming!"  I even clip dead lobelia blossoms, which are minute.

The other day I thought, "Annie, what if your excessive attention and clipping of these tiny blooms is actually hindering more blossoms? What if you are cutting off something that could bloom?"

This gave me furiously to think, as Hercule Poirot was fond of saying. I thought: what else in my life do I dead-head, thinking it past, deceased, when actually it could be a place of new growth?

1/ What about my prayer life?  I have a real prie dieu which I ordered years back and used to spend fruitful times kneeling and chatting with God. But ever since cancer and chemo, I don't pray there anymore, although I always do the Daily Readings.  Truth to tell, I am pissed at God. She didn't save me from cancer, but that is not Her job. I need to remind myself of that and get down on the kneeler to pray and to listen.

2/ Why have I let my painting go? I did a number of fun primitive paintings some years back, and even had a contract to illustrate my book, "Apple Valley Year," before I got pregnant a second time and let it lapse. I have oils and gouache, even a table available. Why do I think that part of my life is past and done? Wouldn't it be revitalizing to take up a paintbrush again?

3/ Why don't I listen to my favorite classical music anymore? Since cancer and a bit before, I closed that part of my life down. Is it because I always tear up and sob and drip when listening to Bach and Mozart? Let me start listening again and revitalize that source of soul comfort.

4/ Why did I stop writing my novel ("The First Sound Is a Cry," about a 15th-century vampire and his friendship with Caravaggio, which Jane Yolen always loved) which is 2/3 done?  Yes, I have some chemo brain, but we all have invisible disabilities. I can work around it with enough caffeine, some dark chocolate, and putting my butt in the chair.

These are just 4 areas in my life--once alive and blooming--which I have snipped off, thinking them past and unable to bloom again. I need to revisit these places, stop worrying about the Greenland ice shelf and Trump's possible 2cnd term, and get back into my life again. Isn't there a Beatles' song on that? Going to hunt it up immediately.