"Don't Count the Barberry Shrubs"

My gardening business is in its twelfth season, and I know better, but I did it anyway.  Pruning the berberis or barberry shrubs has been on my to-do list for quite some time.  My clients have been away for six weeks and asked me to complete the work before they return.  That deadline is less than a week away.  What have I done that I shouldn’t have?  I counted the number of barberry shrubs needing to be pruned.

Most of my work is gratifying.  There are, however, two tasks I have encountered which I loathe and dread.  The first is dealing with ivy.  As a first job in my fledgling business, I was asked to remove a mass of ivy.  Its far-reaching tendrils had found their way into the interior of the home and needed to be removed at the source.  The damaged knuckle on my index finger from trying to remove it is a reminder of its tenacity. 

The second is dealing with barberry shrubs.  Aptly named as their branches are covered with barbed thorns, I often wonder if a plant such as this was used to create the crown of thorns for Christ.  A friendly shrub it is not.  Even with leather gloves on, the thorns, which are barbed like fishhooks, penetrate fingers and knuckles.  In an attempt to remove them, the barbed end breaks off, remaining embedded, and it takes several weeks before surfacing.  Shearing the shrubs is not an option as a more natural look has been requested, so each individual branch is pruned.

As a kid, summers were spent picking row crops in the fields of local farmers—strawberries, raspberries, and beans.  If you’ve ever seen a field of berries or beans growing you know how long the rows are.  I asked my brother to speculate the length and his answer, “Too long,” says it well.  For anyone, especially a child, reaching the end of the row and completing the collection of fruits or veggies is an overwhelming prospect.  My approach in dealing with the intimidating assignment was to never look up, making it somewhat manageable. 

As a gardener, using that same method when asked to weed a massive garden bed, rake a mountain of leaves, apply bark or dirt, or deal with a to-do list a mile long makes completing those gardening tasks feasible as well—one I did not apply when pruning the barberry shrubs.

Practicing a similar attitude in daily life is effective also.  Each of us face projects or situations in life which are massive, monumental, overwhelming.  Perhaps it is planning a move, a wedding, a trip; preparing for retirement or creating a place for a new child coming into the family; facing a pending surgery or beginning a new job.  Even dealing with a weekly schedule for a family can be difficult as homework, social activities and sports practices, games, dance, or music lessons fill the hours after school.  And then there are the meals.

The old-timers had an expression, “Just keep your nose to the grindstone.”  The origin is said to go back to the days when tools were sharpened on a stone and there was a need for the one doing the sharpening to stay close to the stone while applying pressure.  The gist of it is to keep your head down and keep going.  

Every journey, every enterprise, no matter how large or small, begins with a single step.  If you meet and address the situation, moving forward a step at a time, the whole of it won’t mentally swamp you, a tidal wave of sorts.  And many of life’s situations do have the potential to wipe you out before you even get started if you look ahead.  Case in point:  31 barberry shrubs.  31.  I counted them.

The pruning is almost completed.  There are 4 left.  The job would not have been so insurmountable if I had applied the wisdom of my childhood.  The length of time it has taken me to get it done is a stark indicator of my not adhering to my own philosophy.  I would like to think that the next go-round I will practice what I preach, that I will simply tackle the job and move forward without looking ahead.  I'm not offering any promises or guarantees on that one though.