--by
Neal Lemery
It was unusual
for me, just sitting there in my garden, being still and looking around.
I’d had a long
session with the trowel, the weed eater, and my hand pruners, attacking the
weeds, setting out some plants, and generally tidying up my shade garden.
Sweaty, dirty and tired, I found a chair and a bottle of water and decided to
catch my breath.
At first, I
looked at what I’d done, and what I needed to do, mentally composing additions
to my “to do” list.
This is
becoming a job, I thought. Gardening is
a lot of work, and I’m tired.
Maybe I should
just take a moment and enjoy all of this, my own quiet corner of the world. I
could let the sweat dry, thinking its OK that I just take a break.
Lately, when
I’ve been reading about gardening, I’m nose deep into the science and the
methodologies about how to grow the best of whatever is involved in my latest
garden project.
In the midst of research on an interesting new
plant, I’d come across a quote about gardening and my soul.
“It doesn't matter what you do, he said, so long as you change
something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like
you after you take your hands away. The difference between the man who just
cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching, he said. The lawn-cutter might
just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a
lifetime.”
―
Ray Bradbury
Take
a moment, take a breath, and enjoy the garden for what it is, I reminded
myself. Too often, my time here becomes
an obligation, a project. Hurry up, get
it done, and move on to the next task.
But,
I am a gardener, not a laborer. Gardening
really is nurturing, and being IN the garden.
It is a time to nurture this place and my soul, to find peace, to let my
mind be still and just BE. After all, I
am a human being, not a human doing.
And,
so I became still, and sat there. A
swallow was building a nest in the new birdhouse, a hummingbird was enjoying
the honeysuckle in bloom, sunlight played on the rhododendron bursting out in
full glory. I breathed in the fresh air,
and all the smells of spring.
In
the distance, a neighbor was mowing her lawn, and a farmer was tilling his
field. Off in the forest, a logger’s
chainsaw provided the bass line for the house finch’s serenade in the snowball
bush.
The
real beauty in the garden, I realized, was not all the work I’d done, though I
certainly had provided some tidying up and structure to this little piece of
paradise. But, I realized, the real joy
in this place is all the creatures and plants that make this their home.
I’m
only the host, and I only add a few of the finishing touches.
And,
I realized, the most important part of my job here, as a gardener, is to sit in
a chair, and just be here, finding my own peace, and be part of this magnificent
paradise, to simply be in this moment.
5/16/16
