The Coping With Cancer Stress Course had a couple of sessions discussing the usefulness of setting goals. I wasn't immediately sure how helpful it would be but we were encouraged to set some short-term, medium-term and long-term goals as a way of focusing our thoughts and having some aims, no matter how large or small. There are plenty of websites discussing goal-setting in the context of careers or sport.
In a wider sense, it is also a way of thinking about how we spend our time: obviously, cancer has a way of making us face up to our limited time on Earth, and for some of us maybe we can think about goals that have remained hazy or dormant. Sometimes we may feel limited or trapped in unsatisfying lifestyles or stressed with commitments, but it can be amazing what a bit of determination can achieve even with such constraints. I was thinking about a few of my goals today as I looked out of my back door onto my Wintry back garden. The garden looked a bit grey in the evening light, but it made me happy to look at it because it contains the elements of a short-term goal I had set for myself a couple of years ago. The garden is very small and the whole back wall was covered by a large ivy which had got a bit out of control over the last few years.
Firstly, I thought very specifically about what I would want from the garden in an ideal world and came up with:
A space to sit and have coffee with my husband
A meditation area with something to appeal to every sense
A view from the back living room window (rather than just ivy)
Privacy
A fruit tree
I started by moving and clearing some pots by the back door and made a space for our small garden table and chairs. I sewed a cheerful table cloth from inexpensive remnants (see previous post Unfinished Business) and have been at great pains to keep it clear of everything except a couple of lanterns.
The next thing was the ivy. This was a big job every year just to keep cutting it back and it had developed a very thick trunk. My Dad very kindly borrowed an electric saw and spent an afternoon wrestling with the stump. This then created a space behind the pond where we put a homemade frame for a raised bed and filled it with compost. Originally I thought to plant some bamboo in it to create privacy and a lovely rustling noise in the wind, but a gardening friend warned me that bamboo can get out of hand. I reconsidered, and serendipitously at that time won £200 in gardening vouchers writing about "My Treasured Space" for Groundwork. The vouchers went towards 2 fruit trees: an apple and a gage, chosen for their fruit, hardiness and flowers (all of these aspects remain to be seen!).
Fruit tree in the background
The meditation area next to the pond was created easily by buying a few decking tiles from Homebase and just laying them down on top of the concrete paving, creating a space just big enough for a lovely sun chair, which is hidden from view by a curly hazel (given to me in a pot by my parents years ago and now thriving in the soil). A delicate wind chime given to me years ago by my Nan and Grandad hangs in the hazel with a selection of birdfeeders. Some white solar fairy lights add a bit of magic in the early evening.
Robin and goldfinch in the hazel
The outcomes have been;
I enjoy breakfasts in the Summer outside,
I am hidden from view when meditating,
The fruit trees can be seen from our lounge and will provide fruit, flowers and privacy as they grow,
The birds perch in the trees and can be seen from the lounge enjoying the food - in a London garden we have managed to attract woodpigeons, wrens, robins, blackbirds, great tits (produced 2 broods of babies last year in our birdbox), goldfinches and a lovely dunnock. We have a visiting squirrel, mice and have even seen a hedgehog once. I photograph all of them and participate in on-line wildlife photography pages (e.g. Spotter Jotter, a marvellous site with some very experience bird watchers and other wildlife enthusiasts who help with ID when required).
A great tit feeding his brood
When meditating, I can concentrate on sounds (the wind, leaves, wind-chime, birdsong; there was a solar fountain but was broken by a cat fight!), smell (lavender and rosemary planted in pots which can be moved around), touch (the feel of the hazel branches) and the view (of the pond, the fruit trees).
When not meditating, I can read in the last of the evening Summer sun.
I think about my family and friends who have helped to create the garden: my mum and dad who have put a lot of hours into it, my husband who over the years has helped me take loads of ivy to the tip, my nan and grandad, my cousin Teresa and her partner who put in a strong trellis and moved a huge rose bush, my on-line photography community, my community garden friends who occasionally store things here. It is full of memories now and holds promise for the future.
So from a modest short-term goal, my life has been enriched in all these ways, some foreseen, some unforeseen. I shall continue to enjoy my tiny patch of ground: because it is so small, I know every inch of it and the wildlife that visits. I haven't any concrete aims for it this year, but have some emerging ideas of creating a more Zen feel and to explore the ways that the Japanese create harmony and mindfulness in small ways in their gardens, for instance I vaguely remember I read somewhere that because space is at a premium for many Japanese, even the way that a piece of twine is tied becomes important, i.e. there is a focus on tiny details. This is a good way to take your imagination away from unpleasant thoughts and to give your mind something restful, hopeful and calming to ruminate on.
Small details can be fascinating!
What goals do you have for the short or long-term? How will you achieve them? Think of the barriers that have prevented you from doing them. What practical steps can you take to overcome them now?
