My little garden has been productive this year. There have been unforeseen challenges and welcomed surprises that required some adjustment and effort. But that is the way of it. The sun and the rain and the dark time did its work and will forever remain outside the control of the Gardener. I controlled what I could and attended to each plant according to its need and nature. But in the end I have little control over the outcomes. My power lies only in preparing the soil and selecting the plants and caring for them. I think the main lesson for me this year is how little power I have. That realization has actually been a comfort. To realize and remember that I exist connected to a world that allows for my input but needs little from me to do its thing. I can not make a plant grow or produce its fruit. I have no influence over the sun or rain. Such things rest in a power much greater than me. My garden has reminded me to relax and withdraw from all the striving I am apt to engage in. I get to choose and envision and have been given resources to play with but they are not mine to direct.
My garden has also reminded me that I am more similar to a tomato plant than I am to that which makes it all work. I am “a seed growing secretly,” a “branch on the vine,” a “tree planted by the living water.” The “farmer plants the seed but the Creator makes them grow.” I am not responsible for my growth any more than I am for the growth of my garden. So often I have lived in strife and the anxiety that comes with forgetting who and what I am. All the wasted energy and time spent in futile efforts at playing god. Fretting over things beyond me and totally out of my influence and control. Wasting the moments that could have been spent focused on what is actually within my purview. I have spent much of my life in anxiety and self doubt, striving to be something and abandoning who and what I already was. My worry and discontent and striving could no more make me produce than me pulling on a tomato vine trying to speed its growth. All that might do is at best nothing or it could damage the emerging vine or its roots. We were encouraged to “be anxious for nothing” for the anxiety inhibits the intention and unfolding of me. My little garden has reminded me to relax and curiously observe and celebrate the developments as they happen in me. They are as the Creator wills and are according to my nature. It is only in this place that I have found rest.
The last fruits of the season. The girls were sweet and like Goldilocks said “Just right!” Looks like fried Eggplant, Peppers, and green Tomatoes. I battered them with Cajun seasoned flour and egg and fried them crisp. They were good.
Blank slate again. I tilled this season’s straw into the earth. It provided a pretty bed for the plants to rest on and helped hold in the moisture during the drier times. Now it will provide organic matter and space for the new roots to dwell. And as it breaks down further it will help nourish the new plants. Everything in its season. The interplay of growth and decay and the changing seasons are a part of those larger forces in which I move and over which I have little sway. But I can at times, if I am paying attention, harvest the fruit that is available. And if I am wise I will stop depending and hoping in the future of plants or things or people who have run their course. At some point they take much more than they give and no amount of work will change what is. Sometimes the best thing to do is to pull em up by the roots and make room for something that holds more promise for the coming season.
The changing light of the shifting sun, the cooler weather, the desire for my garden to produce created this. A Fall garden. The Fall has always had an impact on me. I tend to get more “romantic” in the classic sense. It opens me up and makes me want to believe. That belief in Beauty and Truth and answers to deep longings can be painful when it arises. But it is also wonderful. To live without that is dull, ill defined, and exists in the mundane. Stale air and conversations and the tepid focus on what could have been. The thing about the romantic impulse is that it’s consummation is a fleeting experience. It meets every expectation and leaves one breathless and aware of the exquisite fully awake, alive. But then like the tide it recedes and leaves the soul exposed and longing for that which has washed over. A taste of home but just a taste. A taste which leaves one hungry for more. Settling into “real” life and it’s predictable patterns can bring some numbing comfort I guess but the Soul gets smothered and sometimes lost there. So does one risk the danger of opening, seeking, searching, allowing the intimate secret Self to hope once more? Or is it wiser and more prudent to be realistic and settle for how things are? I guess it depends on the Soul. Me, I am going to make a garden and hope even though I know there will always be a space between what I imagined and what is manifest. Cause without the risk there would be no garden at all, just wishes and regrets about what could have been.
Cabbage and Chicory, and Collards, and Kale, and Brussel Sprouts, and Swiss Chard. This little space will be full and beautiful soon. But it too will thrive and decline with its season. But I would rather have beauty even though it is fleeting than not at all.
A weeks progress. Will give them a fresh bed of straw soon. I don’t mind the effort cause it will be beautiful if only for a season. Be Groovy! 🙂
I wandered in your garden once again, your thoughts are always full of nutrients for the soul
you and your words are missed …..
Take Care…You Matter…
)0(
maryrose
Good morning you Celtic princess
I’ve never been called a Celtic princess 🙂 though I like the thought , yes i know about hitting wrong buttons
Then good morning Crltic Princess :).
you made my day 🙂 Thank You
Have a great day too !
🙂
I hit the wrong button. 🙂 doing this on my phone does not leave much room for big clumsy thumbs. I wanted to say thank you for stopping by and giving me the grace of your presence.
Your Welcome…I hope all is well in your neck of the woods these days…
You Take Care for You Matter you know 🙂
What an amazing harvest, and what a wonderful season spent here, at Groovy Farm and Vinyard, watching your journey with The Mother. It’s literally been divine. It makes the cold seeping in feel less insidious tonight, as I remember and read about the vestiges of a season well spent.
And when I imagined it was over, I see that there is another crop popping up, and more work, in the dwindling light. I can imagine you planting in the moonlight, as the days grow shorter. The crisp air making puffs of your breath as you tend this next stage. And how your kitchens must carry the full delicious aroma of a meal simmering on the stove.
It reminds me of a song. But then everything does.
I’ll have to bring it to the Monday Music Medicine Show.
Someone will light a fire, and we’ll all sit and sup and sip, with soft music playing in the background, we’ll all sit and remember what a time we had.
What a thought! Plato tending his garden in the moonlight! How beautiful is that. And to be able to sit around a fire and chat. Just heaven…
Its a date
Well, let’s make it a party. I’ll bring the s’mores and hooch
This pretty much sums it up. The old question, do I (try to) push the river, or do I go with the flow… or do I walk on (or in) the river and carry the heavy boat (sounds like me). Thank you, Plato. You don’t cease to amaze me.
Ah, the wisdom of the harvest. It is a lesson and a journey to watch it all grow. My harvest was all herbs this past week. I need to harvest again then start the packaging process, freezing some, drying others. Good job letting go Plato!
Never remain unchanged. ‘Real’ life without intentional analysis among the light stagnates true living. Awareness of what is and what is becoming even without ‘seeing’ is the preparation that today in the ‘real’ life enhances by acceptance for that which is truly real as purposed and is BEcoming.
Accepting the false nutrients of hope leaves the soil supporting growth, barren and without proper nourishment . Stagnent. Complacent. Controlled.
Gratitude for the soil now even the bad soil we learn to use by The Gardeners guidance and believing it is yet prepared as it should be but has so much hopeful nutrients to come in order to sustain the most nutritious fruit as they truly are; were purposed for, and as they should BE.
Refuse to remain unchanged. ☺
Thank you so much for dropping by here. 🙂
So pleased to see you back, hope you are well. Great post. deep thoughts, made me think, thank you for it. Beautiful veg.
Good morning you Celtic princess
Thank you Pluto for replying, what a charming thing to say, when I am down you have lifted my spirits.
“Settling into “real” life and it’s predictable patterns can bring some numbing comfort I guess but the Soul gets smothered and sometimes lost there. So does one risk the danger of opening, seeking, searching, allowing the intimate secret Self to hope once more? Or is it wiser and more prudent to be realistic and settle for how things are?” There’s where I am at currently I am buried way deep and afraid to come out – vulnerability at its worse.
The paradox of the thing is that the more we hide in an aytempt to stay “safe” the more vulnerable we become. And the more we risk being open, saying yes and no according to our own true self the less will fear rule us. And we will learn that there was never really anything to fear in the first place. Blessings.
So the key here is remaining as you true self, not the self you are trying to be?
Who you truely are is beyond fear and manipulation. She will survive anything with a smile.
To give life to things and watch them grow is a mystical connection! All the best – Opher
I love the second paragraph. I feel much the same about gardening. Whether Source wants to be called magic or science, it’s not amazing how I grow food, but rather how food grows. Beautiful piece.
Yes. Thank you.
You have just summed up in one post nearly every conversation we’ve had this year. It’s impressive that your heart and soul can hold on to all the truth you shared and explain it in such a beautiful, comforting way. You are a Wizard of Words indeed my wise bard. Thank you for all the lessons and for making it possible for me to till my old failing faith under and begin again. You’re ever in my heart. <3
Maybe faith is always failing then plowed under and renewed again. It sucks sometimes, badly. Sunshine and rain, tears and laughter exist together. Much love is required and freely given between true friends. Those are roots that never need pulling up. Some grow brightly in the sunshine when the weather is good but whither and disappoint during hard times. Learning the difference is a hard lesson sometimes. Thank you for your deep roots.
I’m going to miss your earthy lessons. BUT I look forward to a time when the spirit moves your to put them all in a little book. 🙂 Love & Hugs, my buddy.