Dear John,

After several days of rain, the garden is bursting with new life and when the sun rises, a pollinator party begins. Now that the pots and beds are flush with flowers and herbs, there are more hummingbirds, bees, and butterflies than ever before, and it’s a joy to spend time in the middle of it all.

One of the things I love about having an herb garden is that it gives me a chance to do something I learned from the “Live to 100” Blue Zone documentary on Netflix. I make herb tea so I can drink it throughout the day. It’s a simple recipe – cuttings of sage, rosemary, apple mint, lavender, lemon verbena, holy basil, lemon balm, and parsley all steeped together in a one-gallon mason jar. Once cooled, I add a few ice cubes and keep it in the fridge.

This morning, I thought about hanging out in the garden and cutting herbs for tea, but a voice in my head told me to wait. You have an event later today, she said, so you need to write your blog and get a few things handled in the office. Do those first, and then enjoy the garden.

I noticed this voice and appreciated her effort to keep me focused and accountable, but I ignored it and went to the garden anyway.

Our post-midlife years are a good time to question where our loyalties lie. And mortality provides inspiration. If you're on the back nine, you have limited holes left to play, so you'd better enjoy them. That means learning to soften the impulse to put responsibility ahead of desire.

When I close my eyes to recall a few favorite memories, the ones that come to mind first are those where I put the “business” of life on hold and did what I wanted to do instead. Like the day I faced my fear and said no to a request that felt life-changing and looked up from my desk to find a buck looking back at me. We locked eyes for a full fifteen minutes. Or the morning I chose to cancel all my appointments to drive into the city at 5 am to be with my dad in the hospital. I still remember the twinkle in his eye when I slipped him a piece of bacon. It turned out to be our last visit. And the Sunday afternoon when I gave in to my desire to rescue animals again and came home with two tiny kittens squeaking in unison when I opened the pet carrier.

The wisdom years are an excellent time to challenge the voices that cling to old ways of life. While I’m still a responsible gal who likes to get things done, I’m less focused on where I should be and more interested in where I am and what my soul wants. That’s when the magic of the moment sweeps me off my feet.

Love,
Cheryl

P.S. – Check out the audiobook/workshop called Self Care for the Wisdom Years available through Audible. You can learn more here.

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