i might be a loropetalum
This winter has been unseasonably cold for Houston, including a couple of days when the plants in our garden were covered in ice. This made me nervous. I am not a gardener (by any stretch of the imagination), but a few years ago, when we were in the throes of a drought and neighbourhood water rationing, many of the lush foliage in our back yard died a brown, crispy death. This naturally led my completely-untrained-gardening-mind to believe that "unusual weather patterns" necessarily equals "spectacular plant death" and, as such, recently I have been peering outside in the certainty that I would see our remaining foliage rolling over in their beds (pun!), their little leafless limbs up in the air in frigid death.
So you might imagine my surprise when yesterday, I looked outside and saw the bushes had exploded in vibrant pink, almost in defiance to the cold snap that had suddenly sauntered into Houston in the afternoon. It was like the plants muttered to themselves, "To hell with it: I don't care that conditions aren't favourable, or that there may be challenges. I'm going for it anyway."
It was a sign.
For the past year, I've been toying with the idea of offering in-person workshops and retreats -- even going so far as checking out possible venues in various cities. But try as I might, I couldn't go through with it. I kept hesitating, unsure about what I was doing.
But over the past week, I've had a few conversations, not the least of which was with the inimitable Andrea Scher. After brainstorming with her for a few hours, I realized that I'm totally ready to do this. It's go time.
I'm not ready to reveal everything quite yet, but suffice to say that I'm moving full steam ahead. Give me about 6 weeks, and I'll share all the details with you.
It's going to be a great year.