In my most recent newsletter, I received some emails back from people sharing what they had been paying attention to and I loved it so much. So much of writing, to me, is connecting, encouraging, and sharing in our humanity. In one email, my friend Savannah replied back with some encouragement to me connected to a conversation we had recently had. She said,
“I kept thinking about your garden. how cool and impressive I found it to even attempt growing anything, but you weren’t seeing that. you saw what didn’t grow or what the heat killed or perceived failure over this garden (which I get lol you put your time and energy into that so i’m not scolding you for a bad attitude). but I think that’s another example of being patient. of looking at something that was very good for you - that you tried and maybe failed at this go round - but is it truly a failure if you showed up, if you tried?”
Her question has stuck with me over the past two weeks.
The deers ate so many of my plants, the sun scorched my flowers, and the wooden garden bed I put together fell apart. Honestly, I was ready to give up and call it quits on this year’s garden. It felt like a lost cause. Along with my garden, there felt like there were other aspects of my life that were failing and my mind was growing clouded with frustration and disappointment. And then, Savannah’s question pulled me out.
Is it truly a failure if you showed up, if you tried?
She saw what I wasn’t seeing—a perspective that I needed and continuously. She reminded me that I had forgotten that failure is only as strong as we allow it to be. She brought me back to this reminder of agency that keeps popping up in my life; failure can be a powerful friend with shame or it can be a powerful, yet gentle teacher. It can remind us of the steps we’ve already taken and how we’ve grown and how we can continue to grow. Or, we can allow it to shut us down and to give up. Either way, we have a choice.
That night, after reading that email, I brought all my plants from inside that were also dying outside. I gave them new soil and many of them new pots. I then took apart the broken pieces of the wooden garden box and I screwed it back together. I pulled up the scorched flowers in the flower bed and added more soil for the last few marigolds holding their ground. I added in a fence to protect the remaining plants from the deers.
In a few weeks, the remaining flowers could die. The deer can get creative and still eat my one remaining fig. The garden box could fall apart again. But, if they do, I’m reminded that I can respond to it all. I’m reminded that I can try again.
Is it truly a failure if you showed up, if you tried?
…
When I think about how nuanced failure is, I think of the soccer teams I helped coach at Cedar Shoals High School. In 3 years, we never won a game. When you looked at the statistics, we were a failing program. Yet, when you were with the team every day, the last thing you’d see was failure. Instead, all you’d see was growth, patient endurance, and a family. You’d see girls who had never touched a soccer ball know the game of soccer by the end of the season. You’d see girls from all different grades, backgrounds, and spheres of the school become dear friends. You’d see that one year we’d go from being mercy ruled by a team to the next year only losing by 1 or 2 goals. You’d see the soccer field become a safe place for girls. Ultimately, you would have seen the courage that is showing up and trying, time and time again, even when the results were never what you’d hoped for.
Is it truly a failure if you showed up, if you tried?
Words that have been sticking with me:
In line with thinking about all that we learn from gardening or plants, I’ve been thinking a lot about the poem my friend Lindsay wrote. She wrote it for the Fear/Flourish compilation and it is a beautiful reminder of how sometimes flourishing is sitting in the shadows of our perceived failure, ready to rise.
Flourish
Flourish
I’m experiencing my first spring in my home
Rather, my first winter ending
When we moved in, I invested in my garden and watched winter choke my labor to what seemed like certain death
But
To my glee
There is great power in the unseen
In what will always remain unseen
Somewhere down below, with the worms and the lack of fertilizer and the thick clay - life persisted
My plants aren’t growing back like I thought they would - with new leaves on the crippled branches and stems
Instead, they are reaching now from the earth, from the dust from which they came
At first I saw victory
And then so quickly, it felt like failure, starting from the ground again when we got so far last year
But I’m trusting in all the cliches
All the corny truths of pruning
The certainty of growing back stronger because the roots are deeper, bigger
They look like baby plants - these little leaves breaking through the pine straw
But miraculously, they will be bigger and stronger
The resurrection brings me to tears
I’m so thrilled by what work was done during death
What that means for my garden
What that probably means for me
In the depths of the hard earth
Doing more than surviving
And even more than just waiting,
Anticipating
My peony bush was dead
I know she was
Today, she is larger and brighter than last year
I’m witnessing a miracle
In my very own yard
Where my poor plants have fallen into custody of a clueless gardener
And yet
The promise of spring
Prevails yet again
Despite me
Who am I to doubt
To name finality
When I cannot see beneath the surface
The work being done without me
So at the proper time
When the sun rises warm again
Flourish
Lindsay Lowery
List of Attention
The ways harvesting a plant permanently changes your appreciation for that food
And how tedious of a job it is to pick blueberries
How refreshing a summer rain and storm can be
The joy of using fresh produce to cook a meal with friends
Add on to the list! Email me @ bnfrederking@gmail.com with what you’ve been paying attention to this week
Prompts/Questions:
At the end of every newsletter, I want to leave you all with some questions/prompts to think on. If you ever want a friend to hear your thoughts, feel free to share them back with me through email! I always love to read and to listen.
Question(s):
What have you been perceiving as failure in life? Write about that and then take some time to name the ways you’ve been trying and showing up for yourself in that area of your life.
Creative Prompts/Celebration Tasks:
Write a poem in response to Savannah’s question: Is it truly a failure if you showed up, if you tried?
Letter(s):
Think of a person you know that is stuck in seeing some area of their life as a failure. Write to them sharing how you are seeing them show up. Let them know what you see that isn’t failure. Send that l;etter or text or email.
Closing Words:
Maybe right now you are trying out a new hobby or trying to learn a new skill or you recently started a new job and it has been tough. Allow yourself the space to patiently endure through what may feel like constant failure and disappointment. Name the ways you are showing up and trying. Name the ways you are proud of yourself. Zoom out for a moment and seek to see what you aren’t seeing. See your growth. See your patience. See your courage. See your willingness to try. And when you are ready, keep trying. Keep showing up for yourself.
May your week be one of the grace and courage to continue to show up and to try again.
…
As you carry on into this week, may your days ahead be filled with words that encourage you, laughter that heals you, and moments of beauty that pull your attention in and bring you to slow down.
May you know that you, yourself, are worth paying attention to.
This Newsletter was born out of a desire to stay attentive to the world around me, to encourage others to create and to pay attention, and to connect more closely with a readership. If you enjoy these newsletters, you can also support my writing through becoming a part of my Patreon community to get access to more of my writing content. The writing that I do is 100% supported by readers and so any and all support— whether that is you reading this newsletter, sharing it with others, and/or being a part of my patreon means the absolute world to me. Thank you for being here!
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