Where Beauty Is (Or) How to Get Up Maslow’s Hierarchy

December 29, 2016

I struggle with the concept of Maslow’s Hierarchy, because I fear I cannot get to the top, where beauty lives. I worry that I will forever be stuck in survival mode, which happens to be the bottom of the heap. The place where the rat race is run, I suppose.

Here’s a link on what Maslow came up with. It actually makes sense.

Maslow was studying what motivated people, and he determined that if the basic needs weren’t met, like food, shelter, warmth, sex, and so forth, then no one could move on up on the hierarchy because they’re too busy trying to feed and cover themselves. How can one consider beautiful things when one simply needs to eat? I understand. On most days, after hard physical work outside all day, I know the only thing I am thinking of is food. While my friends are considering what to have for Thanksgiving dinner, and scouring blog and Pinterest for table setting ideas, I’m heading to Cracker Barrel after work, and eating like it’s an all-you-can-eat joint. And, yes, I’d like tea and lemonade, not mixed, I mean one glass of each, please. My friends are mortified to eat with me, while I wipe the plate clean, pruning shears still on my belt, and order desert. They are kind enough to go anyway, though, and for that, I give them plants. And, if you’re wondering, yes, I’ll probably be at Cracker Barrel for Thanksgiving. Beats cooking on your day off.

At the very top of the pyramid is the level Maslow calls self-actualization. Put simply, it is the place where your deepest creative abilities can be expressed, or you can most fully express yourself. It is home to creativity and spontaneity. Down in the dungeons of basic needs, self-actualization would be a luxury. It’s something we might think of in our spare five minutes before church on Sunday. But on a daily basis, if the hunter is to eat, he must hunt. As my boss is famous for saying, and I for quoting him, “Those who are hungry work the hardest.”

Yet, my heart aches for the top tier. I have no desire to climb the corporate ladder, but I do want to skip over levels 2-4 (safety, love, esteem) and leap into beauty’s arms. I want to create something beautiful. I have no idea what. Perhaps if I ever get past all these dang levels, I’ll figure that out, but like the girl on The Paradise is always saying, “I don’t want to love Moray, I want to be Moray.” (If you haven’t seen the PBS show, you won’t get the connection.)

An old friend from high school is a photographer, and I find myself often studying his pictures. How does a person, using a camera, create beauty? I’m sure that question opens up a whole can of worms, and blog posts from shutter geeks, but I study the pictures and wonder, could I do that? I seem to be on the search for beauty, and how to make it, like a little girl with a brand new box of 64 Crayola Crayons. Surely with that many colors, exactly the same height and sharpness, in the box, one could create something? But, like that little girl, there is much excitement over the tools, but little vision.

Maslow’s hierarchy doesn’t mention vision, but I wonder where it fits on the tiered pyramid.

How many folks driving home tonight through the forest of subdivision sameness are searching for a vision? A vision that will leap-frog them off the ash-heap of life, and up to the tower of self-actualization? How many blue-collar-white-collar-any-collar workers are driving home with that same feeling in their gut–there must be more than just this? In Maslow’s world there is, and though I realize his theories have been supplanted by others since 1943 (or thereabouts for when he wrote the paper on human motivation), I think the pyramid that followed his theory, resonates with most people because it is simply true. If bills must be paid, then I am working to pay them, not creating beautiful things. If safety is not secured (i.e. my employment is always fluctuating, or I live in a crummy part of town) then I am focused on creating a safe environment for myself. If I lack community, then establishing a community base is my focus.Once these things are in order, then I can create and in the process become self-actualized–if I am not dead already.

What is my point? Yes, you’re thinking, what is it?

Maslow’s heirarchy is missing God. It adds religion and morality, but lacks a personal relationship with the creator of the universe and oneself. Like the Tower of Babel, the climb up is motivated by a desire to understand and know ourselves better, but not necessarily to know God better. Maybe the self-actualization process is to find our own glory? And, therein lies the key to this dilemma.

Once, prior to becoming a Christian, a friend (who was a Christian) made the comment to me that we could do not do “it” (whatever the it of the moment was) without God. I understood the truth of that statement and have since known that all my endeavors must be guided by and entrusted to the One who has given me the desires of my heart (Psalm 37:4). So, if it is beauty I desire, and beauty I long to create, it matters not which tier I camp on, because God camps on them all.

In my job I see gardens that cost thousands to install, but sometimes I am honored to see a garden that cost nothing to install, yet like my friend and his camera, have captured beauty in a simple pot of begonias or hanging basket. Maslow must not have read 1 Corinthians Chapter One, where God tells us that he will make the foolish wise and the wise foolish. I take that to mean he can flip Maslow’s pyramid on its head and bring beauty forth from working hands and self-actualization to my garbage man (who, by the way, is always singing). So, I’ll not despair that the bottom rung seems so very far from beauty, but will look to my Lord and Savior and ask, where does beauty reside today, Lord?

Where Beauty Is (or) How to Get Up Maslow’s Hierarchy

December 29, 2016

I struggle with the concept of Maslow’s Hierarchy, because I fear I cannot get to the top where beauty lives. I worry that I will forever be stuck in survival mode, which happens to be the bottom of the heap. The place where the rat race is run, I suppose.

Here’s a link on what Maslow came up with. It actually makes sense.

Maslow was studying what motivated people, and he determined that if the basic needs weren’t met, like food, shelter, warmth, sex, and so forth, then no one could move on up on the hierarchy because they’re too busy trying to feed and cover themselves. How can one consider beautiful things when one simply needs to eat? I understand. On most days, after hard physical work outside all day, I know the only thing I am thinking of is food. While my friends are considering what to have for Thanksgiving dinner, and scouring blogs and Pinterest for table setting ideas, I’m heading to Cracker Barrel after work, and eating like it’s an all-you-can-eat joint. And, yes, I’d like tea and lemonade, not mixed, I mean one glass of each, please. My friends are mortified to eat with me, while I wipe the plate clean, pruning shears still on my belt, and order desert. They are kind enough to go anyway, though, and for that, I give them plants. And, if you’re wondering, yes, I’ll probably be at Cracker Barrel for Thanksgiving. Beats cooking on your day off.

Yet, my heart aches for the top tier. I have no desire to climb the corporate ladder, but I do want to skip over levels 2-4 (safety, love, esteem) and leap into beauty’s arms. I want to create something beautiful. I have no idea what. Perhaps if I ever get past all these dang levels, I’ll figure that out. But, like the girl on The Paradise is always saying, “I don’t want to love Moray, I want to be Moray.” (If you haven’t seen the PBS show, you won’t get the connection.)

An old friend from high school is a photographer, and I find myself often studying his pictures. How does a person, using a camera, create beauty? I’m sure that question opens up a whole can of worms, and blog posts from shutter geeks, but I study the pictures and wonder, could I do that? I seem to be on the search for beauty, and how to create it with my own hands, like a little girl with a brand new box of 64 Crayola Crayons. Surely, with that many colors, exactly the same height and sharpness, one could create something? But, like that little girl, there is much excitement over the tools, but little vision.

Maslow’s hierarchy doesn’t mention vision, but I wonder where it fits on the tiered pyramid.

How many folks driving home tonight through the forest of subdivision sameness are searching for a vision? A vision that will leap-frog them off the ash-heap of life, and up to the tower of self-actualization? How many blue-collar-white-collar-any-collar workers are driving home with that same feeling in their gut–there must be more than just this? In Maslow’s world there is, and though I realize his theories have been supplanted by others since 1943 (or thereabouts for when he wrote the paper on human motivation), I think the pyramid that followed his theory, resonates with most people because it is simply true. If bills must be paid, then I am working to pay them, not creating beautiful things. If safety is not secured (i.e. my employment is always fluctuating, or I live in a crummy part of town) then I am focused on creating a safe environment for myself. If I lack community, then establishing a community base is my focus. Once these things are in order, then I can create and in the process become self-actualized–if I am not dead already.

What is my point? Yes, you’re thinking, what is it?

Interview with a Container Goddess (Tips for your Winter Pots)

December 29, 2016

This post is for all you chicks who love to do your seasonal outdoor containers (and a few fellas, as well). The store where I work has a container designer, Brenna Henley, and she’s the best. So, I asked her to give us some tips for our winter pots. I’m a hort girl but my expertise is in trees, shrubs, and perennials, what I call the heavy landscape material, as in, dang heavy to pick up and plant. But, I love my pots, so off to Brenna I go when it’s time to switch out the outdoor containers. (An excellent day is when I get to help her. Now, you can be jealous of me too.) I’ve included some of her designs, and a few others by container savvy friends, and yes, even one of mine. Let’s get started.

1. Timing is everything.

Currently, my pots look pretty awesome. My black and blue salvia has perked back up with the cooler temperatures, and my coleus, despite a few nights in the 30s, still looks good (especially my Keystone Kopper). It breaks my heart to think of ripping these plants out to make room for the new. My inclination is to wait until they die, and then switch out my plantings. Not a good move, Brenna says. Now is the time to replant, when everything still looks good, and we’ve got a couple of weeks before the first real frost touches down. Get roots for winter plantings established before a good cold snap renders us too late. So, no sentimental container gardening. I know some of your zinnias still look good, but follow Brenna’s advice, and be ruthless. Empty out the pots, add some fresh potting mix, and start designing.

Below: Snow Angel heuchera, pink blooming heather, and winterberry. When the heather blooms out, the texture of the conifer is still a nice contrast.

Your pots don’t need to be fancy or your plantings elaborate. Something as simple as this three plant combo in a brown pot is perfect.

2. Designing for winter.

Brenna suggests we get away from the mindset of the heavy bloomers of summer. Not many plants are going to give us that kind of bloom all winter. Sure, we can plant our pansies and violas, but they will freeze when the 20s come roaring through (though if you keep their roots watered, you’ll have a beautiful spring performance out of them once again). It’s best to think of foliage plants for winter pots, and add your fall stuff–voilas, pansies, cabbages, and kales–not as the focal point, but as something you can take out when the cabbage turns to mush after a hard freeze. Some great winter perennials are heuchera, bergenia, sedges, carex, winterberry, conifers, acorus, and ivy. All of these are evergreen and while even they will suffer from a hard freeze, a warm spell in January (if such a thing exists!) will perk them back up. You’ll at least have color all winter, and plants like the bergenia turn a beautiful, bronzy pink as the temperatures cool. Allow some thought for upcoming holidays. No sense in doing the pots again come Christmas. Think ahead and consider what you could add in December for a little holiday flair (red twigs, curly willow, bows, pine cones and such).

Below: Bergenia, acorus, heuchera, winterberry, muhlenbergia (this is pretty but won’t last through a harsh winter, try ivy if you can’t live without your trailers), red rooster sedge, and curly willow

Adding what I call the curly q’s adds visual interest. Something I forget to use in my containers but Brenna uses a lot in hers.

A conifer, like this little white pine combined with periwinkle is a favorite of mine. I am drawn to the starkness of it and it sits by my front door. But, if I am feeling snazzy then I add red twig or yellow twigs.

If you prefer what I call the village pot (you can get the village in there), then this pot done by my friend, Debbie Neese, owner of Offshoot Virtual Landscape Services, would appeal to you. She’ll have to take out the chard and lamium as temperatures drop, but everything else will hold fine. The colors of the pot and plants are showy together.

3. Maintaining our winter pots.

You still need to water your winter containers. This one surprises folks, Brenna says. For some reason, they assume they can go without watering outdoor containers in winter. Not so. Check them twice a week, remembering that cold winds and cold temperatures pull water out of plants, but root drench them at least once a week. Meaning, water until you see water coming out of the bottom of the container. “I’ve seen more plants die from lack of water, roots drying out, than from cold,” Brenna says. And, please allow for drainage. Don’t put your pots in saucers, or sit level with the porch or ground. Raise them so they’ll drain. You don’t want the soil to freeze and thaw. Fertilize? Not necessary. Anything granular won’t break down in the cold, and using a foliar fertilizer could bring on tender new growth that isn’t hardened off, so skip it..

Below: cabbage, lemon thyme, chard, sedge, and citronelle heuchera

Whimsical is fun.. Brenna did this for an upcoming wedding. The couple cared little if the container was winter worthy, but the cabbage and chard is all that will need to come out after a hard freeze.

The partner with winterberry and orange pansies.

Finally.

Work smart. Don’t fill up ten pots. Do two. And put them near the door where you will go water them, or near the dog’s bowl where you’ll dump the old dog water into your containers. “The prettiest containers are always next to the dog bowls,” Brenna says. Use warm colors, not so much white, just to jazz things up a bit, and give you something to look at in the dreary months. If you decorate for the holidays, add vines, berries, curly willow, red twigs, anything that will be festive and give you a designer look. And oh, by the way, pots are fine outside all winter so long as it is a glazed pot (or concrete). Nothing that flakes will hold up to the cold. Take those inside.

Brenna’s rule of thumb: Think of it like baking a cake. The anchors (evergreen perennials, conifers) are the cake. The pansies, violas, even spring blooming bulbs that can be tucked into the pots, are the icing.

Bold colors for a cold winter.

Red pots with Illicuim ‘Florida Sunshine’ makes a great shade container. Again, bold for the cold.

Thank you, Brenna!

Stoppage Time; Because AT&T Puts Us on Hold for Hours

December 29, 2016

My Coastie Son has a theory about stoppage time. For those of you unfamiliar with the game of soccer, I’ll give you the basic idea of what stoppage time is. Keep in mind that I was a soccer mom for almost 15 years and, while, sadly, that still does not qualify me to explain off-sides to you (But really? Can anyone explain off-sides in soccer?), I was the keeper of the clock. The clock that said, this game needs to end now, because it is Sunday afternoon and there is still homework and laundry, and all manner of things to attend to before Monday morning. So, in matters of time regarding soccer, I feel I am an expert.

Put simply, in soccer, unlike American football, the clock never stops. The game starts, the clock starts, and no interruption–an injury, a fight (lots of fights), swapping out players, penalties, happy dance for a goal, or dawdling with a throw-in–stops the clock. Between halves, the referee, or more precisely the Fourth Official announces how much time is added to the clock for these interference’s. It keeps the teams honest. They can’t protect a lead by running down the clock during the stoppages. Naturally, the crowds have a lot to say about the number of minutes added onto the clock. Wouldn’t want to be that guy.

At any rate, soccer, like life, doesn’t stop for interruptions.

The fourth official has the ability to use his own discretion about stoppage time. He is not bound to any particular calculation. Hence, the somewhat angry crowds, and I’m sure Monday morning quarterbacks discussing why that amount of stoppage time. But, the time is at the discretion of the official.

Now, we arrive at the Coastie’s son idea. In his analogy, God is the fourth official, and the amount of stoppage time allocated for each person would be at his discretion. You might consider reading this blog as a potential for stoppage time. I’ve read plenty of articles that I’d lobby for stoppage time over. But, I think the Coastie Son is on to something, so here’s my list of what I think should be (or not) stoppage time.

1. Sitting in traffic for two hours because somebody other than you didn’t know how to drive: Stoppage time.

2. Waiting in line at the DMV: Stoppage time.

3. That guy (girl) you wasted sooo much time on: No stoppage time for being a dumba**.

4. Waiting in line to vote: Stoppage time, unless your guy (gal) wins, then no stoppage time.

5. Waiting at the doctor’s office: Obviously stoppage time because if you’re seriously ill you could die before they tended to you, so it’s only fair.

6. Good deeds: No stoppage time because you should be doing those anyway.

7. No good deeds: Stoppage time removed.

8. Calling At&T about your coverage: Stoppage time.

9. Childbirth labor: Stoppage time (sorry guys).

10. Doing your taxes: Need I say it? Stoppage time.

11. Going to work everyday instead of gardening all day: Stoppage time

12. For doing all of the above and going to family holidays: Stoppage time

I could keep going, but you get the point.

So, say you reach 85 and it’s your time. Your day is up, but then the Lord says, okay stoppage time of 8 months. You get an extra 8 months at his discretion, and you can do your own Monday morning quarterbacking about just how he determined that number–or just enjoy the time. It’s your call. But, here’s what you don’t get to do. You don’t get more stoppage time. Stoppage time is a one-time freebie for all the dawdling, waiting, obliging, being put-on-hold hours accumulated. Like soccer, after the amount of extra time has been played, the game is over.

(Please share your own stoppage time thoughts!)

Leaf Senescence; Pondering Mid-Life as Autumn Approaches

December 29, 2016

Senescence is the orderly, age-induced breakdown of cells and their components that lead to the decline and ultimate death of a plant or plant part. The timing of senescence is species-specific. For deciduous trees (non-evergreen) it is typically fall. Leaves last through the growing season before senescing prior to winter.*

People talk about getting old and how they’re going to do it differently. They won’t be grumpy old men, or cantankerous old women. They won’t get fat, or soft. They’ll stay active and eat right and travel the world and have new adventures. In other words, they will use those final years (that last 1/3 of life) rather like a plant’s senescence.

Senescence is a metabolic process and so, it requires energy. It isn’tt just the ending of growth.

Take leaves. They move the products of photosynthesis out of leaf tissue into stem and root tissue during senescence and before leaf drop, The bright green color of chlorophyll fades during this process and the yellow/orange colors of the carotenoids become prominent and combine with the red/blue anthocyanins to produce vibrant colors–quite the display in my neck of the woods right now.

All this talk of activity and world travel from my peers will require energy too.

Around me, my friends are discussing how they will use the products of their own photosynthesis (energy conversion) to fuel other activities or organisms as priorities shift and time moves forward. Energy will be expended prior to the their death, or the death of some part of life they’ve always counted on, like work or health. Perhaps running through neighborhood streets or yoga in converted warehouses will replace subway dashes and five o’clock traffic.

I passed the mid-way mark (is it still 40?) over a decade ago, yet I am only now beginning to think to myself, so how will I grow old? What will be my energy conversion and when will I begin it? Leaves, it is thought, but not known, have a senescence hormone. I suppose that would be a hormone that triggers the process of aging, and death. Soybeans are thought to have what is referred to as the senescence factor, but all plants may not have it. .

I’m not sure all people have it. I fear I do not, and am behind on the senescence, not the physical changes, but the mental processing of it. But then again, I am nothing, if not forever behind.

When my boys were growing up. I was always playing catch up. I thought they were 4 years-old, when really, they were 5, and on their way down the kindergarten hallway. When the heck did that happen? So, I’d scramble to figure out all the nuances and protocols of kindergarten, and just when I nailed that, I looked up, and bless me, they were in the 3rd grade, with a science project due the week before Thanksgiving. Guess who’s buying a turkey while shopping for craft supplies? Is it just me? I’m all like, isn’t this great, we have 3rd graders doing a school play tonight, only if I look closely, it’s my granddaughter, and she’s headed out the door to dance class. How do I miss the change in time that others seem so cognizant of, but to me is as subtle as the light shifting through the slates of my bedroom blinds as autumn approaches?

The role of hormones in senescence is not clear, but the role of hormones in my own senescence is rather apparent. I am at least conscious of it, and I wonder if the plant is. I am unable to name all my particular hormones, and what their roles are in this stage of life, but I see the evidence. Much like the leaves changing colors, there are things changing physically for me. I tire more easily. I am hot now when I used to always be cold. My knees and feet hurt after running or walking a ways. i have little tolerance for lack of sleep, but I wake early no matter what. And while, I hope to make my own list of possibilities for these last years, I find I am still winding down on the previous ones. I wonder if I will miss my opportunity.

Presently, I am having a good dose of reality about aging gracefully, or not.

Growing older must be scarier than we yoga loving, adventure hounds care to admit, or why else would the words mid-life and crisis so often couple? While I see no reason to be all gloom and doom about passing the mid-way mark (more than passing it actually), I do think some of old age’s accouterments make it, well, harder to process than a trip to Europe will soften. I am a realist and must process the facts before considering the possibilities. Still, I am hoping for my own vibrant decline, depressing as that may sound.

As I observe the changing of summer into fall, and am awed by the glorious sight of it, I think how odd that death holds such beauty. Perhaps, hormones and senescence aside, death is speaking to us. Could it be that this bared beauty, that holds nothing back, is telling us, this is just the beginning?

The leaf senescence allows the perennial plant to continue living by providing for the roots and stems what it stored in its leaves. One must die for the other to live. I do not claim to understand the mysteries of death and life, or even plants–who frankly shroud their mysteries well–but I am finally watching the signs.

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