The Kentucky Derby has come and gone, and for folks in my neck of the woods that means it’s time to put the garden in. I and everyone else who wasn’t at the track last Saturday descended upon the garden centers to stock up on seeds and soil and take advantage of the beautiful weather.

As much as I enjoy choosing plants and dreaming of a lush, colorful landscape, I find I’m equally psyched to do the prep work. Although there are ample tools I could use to pull the weeds from a standing position, there is something so satisfying about being on my knees, face-to-face with what needs to go. I like driving my spade into the soil and digging out the interlopers by their roots, pulling them up one by one, leaving nothing but a clean patch of dirt in my wake. I even like feeling the ache the next day, an awareness of muscles I haven’t used in a while.

I read something the other day about gardeners “of a certain age” needing to think twice about how they’ll get back up before kneeling in their garden and, though I’m not there yet, I know that time is coming. Luckily, I am blessed with a number of octagenarian friends who’ve taught me all sorts of life hacks, including how to get up off the floor when you’re struggling. Just roll or scoot yourself ’til you’re next to something sturdy you can grab or lean on in order to pull yourself up. Brilliant!

I wish I’d known that hack sooner. I’ve spent far too much of my life on my knees for one reason or another, with no idea how to get back up. And when I did try to stand, I kept choosing less than sturdy objects (or people) to lean on. Now I’m thrilled to say I have a firm footing (the right medication), ample railings (so many people who love and cheer me on), and the core strength I need (the result of some intense self work) to get back up no matter where I’ve fallen. Even better, these days when I’m on my knees it’s by choice instead of by circumstance. It’s a lot like the “glass is half full” perspective, when you’re kneeling to accomplish something instead of kneeling because that’s all you can manage.

So, my zinnias are planted and my gardening metaphors abound. Looks like I’m ready for my next season. Can’t wait to see what grows!