Meanwhile, in the Garden: So Much for Breathing Room

Last week, in Breathing Room, I wrote about needing ... well... breathing room. And apparently, the Universe has a sense of humor.

Because this week, I discovered I wasn’t breathing very well at all. I have bronchitis.

Talk about a literal manifestation of the astrology.

I’ve been dealing with a cough for quite a while, but this week things took a turn that landed me back at the doctor’s office and eventually on steroids and an inhaler. Talking for very long could send me into a coughing jag. I was tired. And for a few days, simply breathing required more effort than it should.

So much for breathing room. 😂

The good news is that I’m getting better. But getting better has required something I’m not particularly good at.

Resting. A lot.

I had already decided to take some time away from my client work and from writing the next chapter of Becoming Faye. Then my body apparently decided I hadn’t quite understood the assignment.

So, I’ve spent a lot of hours sitting in my patio garden and even taking naps now and then.

If you know me, you know this is hardly a punishment.

I love my garden. I’ve spent the summer watching sunflowers stretch toward the roofline, zinnias bloom in colors I didn’t know I needed, and songbirds fight over territory as though somebody forgot to tell them there is enough food for everybody.

It’s one of my favorite places to be.

And lately, I’ve had plenty of time to sit there.

The astrology surrounding all of this has been hard for me to miss.

Uranus moved into Gemini in April and into my 6th house of health and daily life. It is now opposing my Sagittarius Sun and squaring my natal Pluto in Virgo.

Then on Thursday, Uranus stationed retrograde in Gemini on the same day we had a New Moon in Virgo.

Virgo rules my 9th house, which includes beliefs, higher learning, writing, and publishing. The New Moon also made a beautiful trine to my Moon and Venus in Capricorn.

So here I am.

An astrologer and writer who has temporarily stopped working and writing because her body demanded her attention, sitting in her garden with enough time on her hands to think about what the past few weeks have shown her.

You really can’t make this stuff up.

And while my body has been getting my attention, something else has been happening.

Last week I wrote about two relationships that have been part of my life for decades.

One has required a much stronger boundary that I finally realized I needed to make very clear.

I love this person. That hasn’t changed. But I have reached the point where I’m no longer willing to participate in a relationship where either of us has to keep defending who we are to the other.

Love can exist without agreement.

A relationship cannot survive without respect. At least mine can’t.

So that boundary remains.

The other relationship has gone in a completely different direction.

After years of distance, there was an apology. A real one. And this week, there was dinner.

I sat across the table from people I love and haven’t been able to simply enjoy for a very long time. We talked. We laughed. I spent time with two grandsons I had not seen in nearly two years.

There was no courtroom. Nobody needed to defend themselves. We just had dinner.

Considering everything that has happened, there was something rather extraordinary about how ordinary it felt.

I think that may be one of the things all this resting has given me enough time to notice.

For years, I thought repairing a relationship meant somebody had to finally understand exactly what happened. Somebody had to acknowledge every hurt. Somebody had to agree about who was right.

But now I know that sometimes repair looks very different. Sometimes people decide they love each other more than they need to win the argument.

And sometimes love requires a boundary because that decision to give each other space hasn’t been made… yet.

Those are two very different outcomes, but I’m beginning to understand that they can come from the same place.

I know my own heart. I know what I’m willing to take responsibility for.

And I know what I’m no longer willing to defend.

Maybe that’s part of what this breathing room has been about.

I thought I was taking a couple of weeks off so I could recover from a difficult August.

Instead, September has put me in a chair in my garden and made sure I stayed there long enough to pay attention.

My body needed rest.

One relationship needed room to repair while another needed a boundary.

And apparently, I needed enough time to recognize the difference.

I’m still sitting with all of it.

And for now, that’s exactly where I need to be.

Preferably in the garden.

With my inhaler nearby. 😂