I scatter the garden with porcelain doll heads and tea sets. Some things are easier to toss in the garbage, but some sentimental things that get broken along the way feel more honored/breathe new life among blooming flowers. Back to nature.
This particular doll head was from an art piece in college. The theme had something to do with growing up. I found this pristine, innocent porcelain doll and admired her flawlessness. I dropped her and shattered her face (now, her lips are endlessly kissing my string of pearls plant). I cried. I related so hard. I, too, felt the shattering of my childhood.
Years later I discovered the Hindu deity, Akhilandeshvari (the goddess of "never not broken"), who reminds us that we will always break. That we can't return to our previous selves, but must always rearrange the pieces to evolve.
So now this doll that lived a life on numerous shelves and oblivious to the world, is now keeper of the flowers (and will have a fierce staredown with any bugs that dare eat my plants' leaves).