A New Chapter

It's been seven weeks since my last day as curator of the Elizabeth Lawrence House & Garden.  Even though it was my choice to resign my position--one I never thought I would leave--I find it difficult to even type out the name "Elizabeth Lawrence".  *wince*  There's a tinge of deep pain mixed with sorrow, wrapped with a gauze of guilt in a fog of grief.  I chose to safeguard my mental health and professional integrity over continuing to steward the legacy of one of the most significant contributors to American garden literature and horticulture.

The thing is, I loved my charge.  That word is thrown around so flippantly that it's nearly  a throw-away.  I don't mean it in that sense; I mean it in one of the deepest senses I've known.  The depth of the passion I had for Libba's legacy was unprecedented for me, professionally speaking.  (I can't call her "Elizabeth".  Those close to her called her "Libba".  After 13 years, four months and three weeks of curating her life's work, I don't think she would mind me calling her Libba.)  It feels weird to use the past tense in speaking of my passion for her, but there's a protective fence forming around that part of me.  It's not a wall; it's a fence.  It's not permanent.  As I've been figuring out how to live my life now, post-Libba, it's been important to be strong, and to have a positive attitude.  Redirect that passion, I tell myself.  Focus on your own garden.  To be honest, some of that raw passion is on lock-down behind the fence.  Outside of our home oasis, I am confronted with the inevitable questions time and time again: "What's next for you? ...  What are you doing now? ... Are you looking for another job?"  To the first, I'm totally fine admitting, "I don't know, yet."  To the second, I'm focusing on my own garden.  To the last, it turns my stomach to even think about it.  "Uh, NO."  Is it a feeling of betrayal that's stirring deep down, that even dipping a mental toe in the lake of future employment in the same field is so distastefully unthinkable right now? 

Focus on your own garden. 

 So that's what I'm doing.  I've found healing in it before, and I'm good at throwing myself into things.  Not in a wood-chipper kind of way, but like a rabbit hole sort of way.  My passion for scholarship will never cease (I hope!), and the natural world is my greatest interest.  

I hope you'll enjoy taking this journey with me, through what inspires me, as I grow along with my own garden, and with a smattering of other gardens--and gardeners--I love.  

It's a new chapter.