Failure and the Fear of Texas Clay

 B"H

There's nothing like a good clay soil to teach humility.  Here in Texas, my clay is brown.  Dark brown, like a roasted coffee bean.  When I lived in North Carolina, our clay soil was terra cotta orange.  But all the clay soils have one thing in common, which is: they are tougher than I am.  I am neither as tough, nor yet as old, as dirt.

This morning, I tried to get away with planting some tiny little annuals into the garden.  No big deal, I thought.  Just dig a few inches down, and they're done!

You know what happened next.  Clay happened.  Sticky, heavy, stuck clay.  I knew I had bitten off more than I had planned.

It's funny, but just yesterday I clarified for myself that a big trouble spot for me, in the past, has been not putting heart and soul into my life.  I hold back.  I'm apathetic about myself.  But no more!  I cried.  I will let life pierce through me before I back off!  

And today, the clay.  Looking at me.  Belittling me.  I knew I had to take up the hue and cry, and solve my clay problem properly.  I mixed together some bags of topsoil and compost in the wheelbarrow, and added some soil activator pellets.  Then I took the shovel and... kerflunk.  I lifted the shovel again, took a mighty swing, and... kerflunk.  The clay chortled at me.

I considered, and reconsidered, whether I was going to be able to complete the project.  Did I have the strength to persevere?  I felt the dread of failure looming, particularly since I was previously part of a landscape construction crew, and could once have dispatched the wretched clay soil forthwith.  Exhaustion flowed over me like molasses, creeping into every fiber of every limb.  Fighting clay is a full-body workout.

Well I did eventually chip/dig/haul the clay out from the planting bed and replace it with better soil.  But I physically hit my limit several times.  I was dizzy, cramped, out of breath, and sweating.  I had to take breaks to avoid keeling over.  It was not a day in the park!

I got to thinking that being part of life means letting go of how I thought life should be.  I mean, I was thinking sweet little flowers on a sunny day, and what did I get?  Dirt and dejection.  And something else too.  I got happy.  I got happy because I was fully present, doing what I wanted to do, albeit not the way I wanted to do it.  I failed to achieve my original vision of how my experience would be.  But by letting that vision die, I achieved it.  I felt truly part of the new flower bed, in my very (tired) flesh!  

In my prayerbook I read, "May my soul be as dust to all."   Nothing fancy.  Just humble dust.  When I jettison the ego that says I should be more, I have the fulfillment of connecting with people and with G-d just as I am.  I'm not fooling anyone.  I am what I am and I do what I do.  Sometimes it's good enough, sometimes the clay may win.

We go to such lengths avoiding the fear of failure that springs up in our way as we travel toward our dreams!  If we can only endure those feelings, we are free to take a direct path to our goal.  But when we can't endure those feelings, too often, we get caught in twisting and turning, and don't accomplish the main thing.  

I have a new goal.  I don't want to beat the clay.  I want to endure like the clay.  I want to stay firm on my course in the face of life's varied experiences.  Because nothing keeps clay from being clay.  That stuff can endure anything.