Taking Life with Chances

Yesterday was one of those perfect spring days.

I got to spend it in a garden I’ve been helping out in. A week ago, I was asked if I was afraid of heights. I said I wasn’t. Then I was asked if I’d come help trim back two trees.

Sure.

This is not something I have any real experience with, and I’ve only used a chainsaw maybe twice in my life — many, many years ago.

When I showed up, I learned I’d be using a Black & Decker battery-powered hacksaw. That damn thing vibrated my arms like crazy, and I was honestly surprised by what it could handle.

My task was to cut back any branches touching the house or growing into the power lines above.

There were many.

They were cherry blossom trees — which happen to be my favorite.

After cutting the branches, they needed to be dragged down to the wood pile, where they’d be broken down even more before being added to the growing mound of wood already there.

I started the day in long sleeves, which quickly turned into just a T-shirt as the sun came out. My arms getting scratched up as I dragged branches down to the pile.

When it came time to break everything down further, I started pulling off what I could by hand. Then I stopped and went to grab my phone and earbuds from the car, thinking I’d put on a podcast or a playlist to pass the time.

I stood there for a moment, earbud in hand, trying to decide what fit the moment.

And then I paused.

This month’s theme at both church and in a group I’m part of is paying attention. We were given a poem by Mary Oliver called Gratitude, where she asks a series of questions.

I couldn’t remember all of them, but a few stayed with me:

What did you notice?
What did you hear?
What did you admire?
What astonished you?

So instead of putting anything on, I asked myself those questions while I worked.

I noticed the person sitting on their porch reading. The teenager across the street cleaning the sidewalk. I found myself wondering what they were listening to, what the person on the porch was reading.

I heard the birds. The sounds of people doing yard work. Cars passing by.

I admired the big, fat worms in the rich soil while I was weeding one of the garden beds. They provide so much value. I moved them out of the way and thanked them for their work.

And I was honestly a little astonished by my ability to trim those trees. I took on the task like I had done it before.

By the end of the day, my arms were scratched up, dirt covered my hands and was packed under my nails (I prefer to weed without gloves), my face was red from the sun…

…and I was full of joy.

Now I think I need to go find a pair of overalls from Goodwill.