Half an Hour of Sunlight

Moss is growing under the magnolia trees and, after some attempts at re-seeding and disappointed hopes, we are accepting that a wooded lot means shade. Lynn, the landscaper who came to map out and design a woodland garden pointed out a couple of tree limbs that we could “lose.”

“Half an hour of sunlight,” she claimed, could make a difference. Half an hour of sunlight. Instead of either/or, she was looking through the lens of both/and. It wasn’t about shade or sun, trees or none. Carefully selecting and trimming some choice tree limbs would provide an opening for a little more sun. Each spring I free the seedlings in my garden from the overwhelming shade of faster growing weeds. I recognize this care as essential. But the expanding tree limbs had been encroaching unnoticed. I wondered if this was perhaps because this change was so gradual, for it had transpired over a period of years rather than days or weeks. Maybe that was what kept me from noticing.

With her knowledge, Lynn’s trained eye saw what I had not. While my acceptance was more like resignation, like giving up the fight and acknowledging defeat, her attitude was one of creativity and excitement. She was seeing the fixed and moveable parts of the landscape, and was offering me choices for discernment. After she left, I felt lighter.

Later that day, I found myself reflecting on the balance of sunlight and shade in my life. Yes, I acknowledged, it has changed. Is this new balance right for me? Do I need to grow something new? Or trim something back? What is the best way to support my growth as I continue on my journey of becoming who I am?

I invite you to consider today what half an hour of sunlight means to you. Could your life benefit from 30 minutes a day of life-giving energy?

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