You Are Not Behind — on trusting your own season
This week, I noticed the first real signs that the summer garden finally started to cooperate.
Not all at once.
A few stronger stems here. New growth there. Petunias beginning to fill in around the edges. The lemongrass standing a little taller than it was the week before.
The funny thing about growth is that if you pay attention closely, you’ll notice it gradually. But if you give it space and trust the process, one day you'll step outside and be surprised by how much it has grown.
Because, most of the important work happens quietly.
One day, something appears unchanged. Then, seemingly overnight, you notice it has become something entirely different.
I think people are often harder on themselves than they would ever be on a garden.
They expect immediate results. Immediate certainty. Immediate proof that they are moving in the right direction.
And when life does not unfold according to schedule, they begin to believe they are behind.
Behind in love.
Behind in success.
Behind in healing.
Behind in becoming who they thought they would be by now.
But gardens do not compare themselves to one another.
The geranium does not worry because the basil grew faster.
The onion does not apologize for taking longer than expected.
Each thing grows according to its nature.
Each thing unfolds in its own season.
I thought about that while walking the property this morning.
Near the back garden, I noticed that a loose section of fencing had been repaired.
No announcement.
No note.
No request for recognition.
Just quietly fixed.
I smiled because I had a feeling I knew exactly who had done it.
And it reminded me that growth is not the only thing that often happens quietly.
So do some of the people who matter.
The world spends a great deal of time convincing us that important things arrive with a grand entrance.
They do not.
Sometimes they arrive as a stronger root system.
A repaired fence.
A new opportunity.
A better friendship.
A second chance.
A deeper understanding of yourself.
Sometimes they arrive after you have nearly convinced yourself they never would.
If there is something in your life that feels delayed, I hope you do not mistake delayed for denied.
Not everything beautiful arrives early.
Some things require more time to become what they were always meant to be.
And perhaps that is not a flaw.
Perhaps that is wisdom.
I stood for a moment looking over the garden before heading back toward the house.
The beds were fuller than they had been a month ago.
Not finished.
Not perfect.
But growing.
I suspect many of us are.
Warmly,
Mika
Mikasa of the Inn
P.S.
A familiar line appeared in the margin this afternoon.
"Some flowers bloom in spring. Others wait for summer. Neither has missed its season."
— Lady Staywell