Garden

Today I went to a community garden.  I’m not a frequent gardener, both in the sense of the community garden and my own life.  I seem to get distracted and then the plant dies or something of nature happens.  It’s like I can’t get in the habit.  It’s not a top priority, so it slips below almost everything else on the list of things to do.

 

Just because I don’t garden much doesn’t mean I don’t like it.  Every once in a while I long to feel dirt under my fingernails {in places where it gets stuck…forever}.  I love seeing the electric green color after a fresh rain or watering.  I love the sweet smell of growth.  {Ok, I could pass on the smell of super fresh dirt}.  I love the soothing rhythm of turning the dirt and digging holes for the promise of seedlings.

Today was about working in the earth, ease of conversation and feeling rather than seeing.  Gardening is an experience.  I got invited in a passing thought to join a new friend in her space, with her growth, and her veggies.  There was order and freedom in that space.  It seems odd, but the vegetables were in rows and we looked at the plot like a puzzle seeing were a row could be finished or a new one created.  Order.  There was freedom in stepping in the dirt, kneeling and having nothing but air around.  The only boundary at that point is the ground, which isn’t much.  Freedom.

I didn’t add a picture, because when I picture the space, feel the experience, and imagine the growth of that plot, I can then erase the distractions.  I can make the clutter of the surrounding areas disappear.  If only it was that simple in life.  In only it was easy to focus and be focusing on the right things.  If only the distractions could be erased, the clutter instantly invisible.  When I see the confusion all around I am returned to thankfulness, I turn to compassion, I give mercy, and I am reminded of humbleness.

 

By the way, if you are a lover of children’s books please read The Gardener by Sarah Stewart and David Small.  They have excellent books and this is one of my favorites.  {So much so, that as a child I met them and have a signed copy}