Recently, I wanted to make changes to the shrubs in our Arizona yard. First, I don’t like what’s there –repeatedly trimmed and shaped into plant cubes, they are just ugly.
In the past, this would have been a project I would have tackled myself.
Cutting them down, getting rid of the debris, weeding around them, and then digging in new plants. But. The ground here in the desert is completely different.
First, it’s hard and rocky. My trusty shovel has a hard time making a dent in it. Second, the current plants are watered by a tiny spaghetti system of water lines. I don’t know a thing about these lines. Finally, I don’t know much about desert plants either.
I do use an app to help me identify plants I find intriguing. As I walk through this neighborhood, I take pictures of the ones I like to keep track of them. In addition to not knowing much about them, I also don’t know much about water, xeriscaping, and desert gardening.
I admit this spring I bought some annuals for the front patio. I was excited about having a welcoming pop of color near the front door. Too bad one of the cheeriest spring purchases was also a fan favorite of the javelina that live in our neighborhood. I came out one morning to find it half-eaten.
What I’ve been reckoning with is not just the differences in gardening but the challenges of gardening in my mid-60s. In a very hot place. What I used to do is not what I can do now.
While I can mourn these changes, I can also own them. Now is a season for new things. Learning about life in the desert is an ongoing process. The soil is different, as are the plants, animals, and overall climate. Also, did I mention that it’s really hot? In this time, I’m invited to think differently about myself, gardening, and other activities from my past.
Things have changed and are changing.
I’m changing too. This is the first time I’ve been in my mid-60s. What I thought I knew applied to my 40s and 50s – and to life in the Midwest. I am excited that I get to look with curious eyes on what life is now.
Changing and growing calls for curiosity and openness.
It also calls for flexibility and acceptance. So yes, while I may mourn the garden-girl I once was, I can also rejoice by being open to the now and the next.
Are you in a similar transition? Perhaps things you’ve deeply enjoyed have changed due to loss or major life change. While you may feel some sadness about the loss, you may also discover a curiosity about what might be next. Curiosity, openness, flexibility, and acceptance are some of the resources you can tap into for your life transition.
As you navigate the transitions of your life, you may find comfort, insight, and further healing by working with a coach. As a grief coach, I work with people navigating the spaces of different kinds of loss. Curiosity and openness are essential navigational tools for finding your way in this season.
If you are coaching curious or simply needing a way to explore the questions of the moment, I invite you to sign up for the 45-minute Live the Questions offering.

A watershed moments coach can come alongside your experience of grief and loss providing support, encouragement, education about the nature of grief and insight that can assist you as you mourn. Collaborating with a coach is an investment in finding your way forward after a significant life change. Connect with us for a brief introductory conversation where we will explore whether we are a fit for your current grief needs. Click here to schedule a no-charge, 20-minute conversation where we will learn more about one another.