We haven’t done much in the garden this year. I realized I was expecting too much of myself, and growing a baby was quite enough for right now! And yet, I am drawn to the garden. I love seeing what decides to come up on its own. This year, there are dozens of huge, bushy comfrey plants; a gigantic carpet of thyme; a strawberry patch that’s been yielding a quart a day; some potatoes that never sprouted last year, and thought they’d give it a try this year; a few green beans, since I couldn’t help but plant those- they’re my favorite!; a couple transplanted greenhouse tomatoes; a tiny corn patch the kids planted (they like to plant large seeds, small ones just seem to slip right out of their fingers); and oh-my-gosh the old plum tree has pulled out all the stops and bears dozens of tiny plums! The spiral of greens I planted hasn’t wanted to come up. I am a bit suspicious that the bunnies have nibbled away the young sprouts, since that bed is closest to a spot where they nest on the other side of the sagging, rather nominal garden fence.
Queen Anne’s Lace
In the early morning, I join the snails, rejoicing in the dawn-lit dew. The flowers offer a meditative query… am I open to all the universe is offering, beaming straight down to me? Those magical, mystical spiritual lessons and treasures which must be dancing in the sunbeams and tumbling down on the wings of the wind?
Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
Dr. Wayne Dyer talks about the first nine months of our existence. We simply allow our destiny to unfold, trusting implicitly in the grand design occurring with our complicity. It doesn’t need to be any different, he contemplates, once we leave the womb- and yet so often we seem to tell our Creator, or Source- “Thanks- I’ll take over from here.” I often struggled with the idea of being predestined vs. having a free will. And then I realized… there is a beautiful plan in place… a plan called Harmony… and free will is the choice to be a part of it, or to walk away and choose Chaos. I choose Harmony. Harmony doesn’t mean the winds don’t shake me and the afternoon sun doesn’t beat down in all its strength… but Harmony trusts that it is all good, and nothing is wasted.
I want to be like the flowers, open and inviting, offering the sweetest nectars of love, compassion, understanding, and hope to all who visit… collecting the waters of life, whether they be wrung from the storm clouds or manifested through condensation as I find balance in the highs and lows of life… to offer the thirsty a drink.
Consider the flowers… they toil not. How can I bring that existence of restful calm to my tasks?