A Bucket for Your Feelings

“I feel like I’m a human trash can,” a client remarked the other day. “It’s like I’m shiny on the outside, but I’m filled with unwanted things on the inside. One hurtful comment here, one idea planted in my mind there, one stigma attached to me at a time… and I keep it all tightly closed inside, like a human trash can. But I feel very close to being filled up with so much trash now that it feels like I can’t hide it anymore.”
I could empathize. Can’t everyone at some low point in their lives?
We talked about some ways to cope differently and some strategic self-care to prioritize in the coming weeks.
But I was bothered by her trash can metaphor. How could she recognize the extent of her value and capability when she currently most closely relates to a trash can??

So this is for her.
And it’s also for all my fellow humans out there who have waded through the assorted mucky Swamps of Overwhelm and Self-Disparaging:

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A Bucket for Your Feelings

The human body is a container for all our experiences and their emotional consequences.
We can think of ourselves like a compost bin. All the emotional leftovers of each of our experiences gets tossed right into our bin.
The actions we take throughout our lives— goals we set, the decisions we make, the relationships we have, the work we do — are seeds planted in the Garden that is our human experience.
There’s a lot that goes into raising seeds to bear adequate fruit. But the quality of the soil is an element which cannot be ignored; it will certainly influence the growth of the plants. And the quality of the soil is significantly dependent upon the ingredients of your compost bin.
Your human compost bin catches all the organic matter you collect through the course of living:

… the apple cores from the fun, sunny day at the orchard with your family… the packaging from your new business cards bearing the title from your big promotion… the moldy forgotten leftovers from the back of the fridge… the dinner you burned because you were distracted by yet another argument with your partner… the pile of bills you didn’t know how would pay… the party invitation you threw out because you felt too self-conscious to attend… the stained clothes from the traumatic event you wish you could forget… the second-baby announcement from your friend when you’re still trying to conceive your first… the handwritten letter from the relative who needed you to know what a disappointment you are… the wilted flower arrangements from the funeral…

Early on, you just scoop your compost out of the bin and spread it on your garden plot once a year or less. And that works fine. Your seeds sprout and bloom, but your plants just aren’t as healthy and fruitful as they could be. And your remarkably foul-smelling bin is constantly swarming with a thick cloud of flies.
Maybe you garden that way because it’s how your parents did things. Maybe you didn’t get to see what your parents did, so you figured out your own system. Maybe you were raised to compost a specific way, but you swore you’d never do it that way when you got your own garden; so now you know what NOT to do, but don’t really know what TO do.
Early on, you don’t even realize there is a connection between the quality of your harvest and the ingredients of your compost.
But somewhere along the way, something clues you in.
Maybe it’s a talk you hear, an article you read, a podcast playing in the background somewhere, a friend who’s learning it for themselves... Maybe you’re beginning to wish your yield was better, so you intentionally seek out advice.
But whatever it is, you decide it’s time to change the way you compost.
At first, the changes are small: You follow some experienced gardeners on social media so you can conveniently learn some of their tips and tricks. You do a google search every now and then to read short articles about better ways to compost.
Then in small ways, you begin to apply what you’re learning: You begin to check on your compost as it breaks down, remembering to turn it every so often. You begin to break down some of the contents by hand when you notice something is too tough. You gravitate toward friends who feel positively about composting and are working to improve their gardens, too.
As you gain knowledge and experience, you learn what ingredients are more beneficial for your plants and what ingredients to keep OUT of your compost bin. You get more comfortable with habitually turning the contents and applying them to your garden. You get more comfortable with the messiness required for thriving plants and begin to love the dirt under your nails. You find yourself working with your compost and your garden more often. And, to your astonishment, you find the work helps you feel better in nearly every way.
After some time spent firmly establishing your new composting habits, you decide to next work on making it a habit to sort through your kitchen’s scrap bucket before you add it to the outdoor bin.
During one such check, you notice a fork in your scrap bucket. Your mother-in-law must’ve mistakenly dropped it in there after making that rude comment about your cooking.
“Ohp, that doesn’t belong in my compost bin,” you mutter as you fish out the fork. You wash it, dry it, and put it away in its proper place.
On another occasion, you discover the glitter-crusted, metallic embossed invitation to your high school reunion in the bucket. “Whoops,” you chuckle, “I already know that won’t help my seeds thrive!” You scoop it up and throw it out.
As you intentionally develop more productive composting habits, you start walking by your compost bin regularly to make sure things are breaking down and integrating the way you’d like them to.
You peek in on it one day and notice a whole piece of burnt toast.
“How did I miss that?,” you think, as you reach into the heap with wise, experienced hands and tear the slice into smaller chunks. You’ve learned things will break down more efficiently in the container if you spend time processing them first.
Lovingly sprinkling your carefully tended compost on your garden sometime later, you spot a piece of the toast again. You smile to yourself at how nicely it’s breaking down since you gave it a little help.
With enough time and experience, you come to consider yourself an accomplished and knowledgeable gardener. You know just what your garden needs and how to adjust your compost recipe to grow thriving plants.
You’ve become a master at this craft.
And you have the delicious, hearty home-grown veggies to prove it.