The Constant Gardener
I don’t know a lot about gardening, but I am no foreigner to the metaphor. On my song “February Story” I crooned with agony and desire for love to “let me go, so my garden can grow”. And how could I ever forget my very first gardening experience at a Buddhist Temple in Maricopa, California.
After losing my cat and my boyfriend on the same day – one died and the other left – I found myself pulling weeds and pruning tulip bulbs. For the life of me, I could not understand why we had to dig up these lovely flowers, cut them to the quick, only to re-plant them in the same spot.
When I asked one of the monks at the ranch the purpose of it all, she explained ever so delicately: if we don’t dig up the bulbs in time, the roots would continue to grow and eventually strangle the flowers planted nearby – as well as each other!
For further research, I just asked Siri about ”pruning” and she lovingly led me to a quote from “Gardening from Dummies.” It read: “Pruning is part maintenance, part preventive medicine, part landscaping…pinching away some part of a plant for good reason. Wow, ok.
Then, I remembered a book I read once that utilized the “Garden” as a metaphor for the Soul as its central theme. Seconds later, I realized that perhaps this concept is a clue for my own soul growth and development. Like most folks, I get frustrated, irritable, restless and discontent as I “wait” for my dreams to “come true.”
I drag my feet, kick rocks and allow the ego to fool me into thinking that I am walking a straight line…and that my evolution and unfoldment is a linear process. Once that ground is covered, I never have to deal with it again. Its been dealt with. I covered it, it’s done. I can check it off my to do list…or, so I may think.
It seems the process of growth – and pruning, in this case is indeed a cyclical, seasonal and therefore, constant process. So, in my case, I must prune for maintenance of my emotional, mental and spiritual health, by noting where there may be imbalance – and trimming the fat. Which can mean identifying old and outdated belief systems, recognizing old pain and resentment.
I can also prune as preventive medicine, by utilizing my intuition and discernment. I can choose to say “no” to side projects and being a side chick, in any sense. I can prune to create clarity by releasing that which no longer serves, which could be seen as landscaping.
One could say, I am a Constant Gardener, in the Foreverness that is my Soul’s expansion. My unfoldment is never-ending, there is no finish line. Sure lightens me up a bit, just the thought of it.