Sometimes the seeds we plant take a while to sprout.

It can be so hard, sometimes. I’m not going to lie to you – the waiting, the dedication to lavishing needed attention on a potentiality that might or might not crack open to reveal the wonders of life – it gets tiring, it wears thin from time to time.

However, when the seed splits and the tiny sprout emerges, all that effort is rewarded and the magic once again takes hold – bringing forth something alive from a small, inert object… sparking an idea from a quiet, fertile mind.

I missed my Morning Pages twice so far this week, and I’ve not yet gone on an Artist’s Date nor a walk. However, that doesn’t mean that I’ve given up on the seed, not at all, and it doesn’t mean that the seed’s given up on me either.

Seeds are resilient things. Some have managed to last for thousands of years, yet still produce viable plants when given the right conditions. I never fear that my occasional distraction will cause my seeds to fail, because I know that as long as I believe in them, they will put forth green shoots that reach toward the sky when I am ready.

That being said, I think I know what my Artist’s Date for this week should be. I’ll report back and reveal if I was able to pull it off. I’ve got growing on the brain and I can see that this is a metaphor that needs me to immerse myself in it fully – in fact, it demands me to do so.