I woke up yesterday morning in a bizarre state, part flustered and part calm. I immediately recalled the dream I had just come out of (this is exactly the dream as I remember it); I was lost in a maze of foliage.. running in every direction, I kept hitting high walls of dense green growth, and no matter how quickly I ran, or how many turns I took, I couldn’t find a clear path. I remember looking straight up at the sky every time I hit a dead end. I must have been waiting for someone to peek their head over the hedge to tell me where to go.. but that head never appeared, and all I was left with was more uncertainty and a neck ache from looking up for answers.

In utter frustration, realizing that my running around yielded nothing but confusion, I sat down where I was. I remember sitting indian style, like a stubborn kid in need of a new plan. I figured if I was this lost, then to hell with the aimless wandering, and all I could do was sit down right there and water the grass around me. If I had nowhere to go, then I could, at the very least, make sure the small surrounding patch of grass was nourished.

..and while recalling this part of the dream it dawned on me, in my groggy, half-awake-ness:

Water while you wait.. 

because sometimes gardens begin in smallest patches.