“Nature doesn’t hurry. Yet all things are accomplished.” Lao Tzu. I am aware that that is true, but I have to say that it is definitely more true when I think about it, NOT when I look out my windows to/at my backyard and feel so small, so helpless and almost invisible (also – lazy… sometimes!), as our backyard is so full of immediate chores and literary endless things to do every day, that it could give an uninitiated one a heart attack! Well, I am initiated, though, and I CAN look outside my windows and not call 911, just because it is sooooo overgrown and not neat – nothing is/has been accomplished! It’s all overgrown! And I also, of course, am fully aware that Lao Tzu’s philosophical statement was not about my back yard; however, I will take it to it… and say that I sporadically do do gardening. Not because I like it, but because… I just do it! Why? Well, “my Mama said so”!
My Mom used to say that I have to wait to get older to really start liking it: “… wait and see, you will love it then!” Well, Mom, I am older, and I have waited, Mom, and I have not seen any of that love materialize, not even a glow of it on the horizon! But, while gardening, I have found moments in time and space that have felt truly life-affirming and profoundly liberating : they have allowed me to focus on something completely different than my everyday life and free my mind from second-to-second/minute-to-minute chatter. They have allowed me (forced me, is more precise, I think!) to slow down. As a result, I have been able to fully focus on something so small and seemingly insignificant as pulling a weed, yes, one weed, or dealing with a patch of dry grass, or unwanted wild flower (though… that last statement is an oxymoron and definitely a theme for another little write-up!), or noticing the birds above me (the red tailed hawk couple, living in the big trees next door, for example), or smell of soil, or a sighting of a lizard (we have some blue-bellies and some alligator lizards, too!), or a butterfly, or an earthworm, or stumbling onto (into!) a gopher’s hole (I know, I know, I professed my love for one of them in a blog post not that long ago, but, oh, well – times have changed – and I am back to having a more of the love – hate relationship’s latter part with the gophers these days). And even if I try to hurry, it does not make progress happen that much faster – it all unfolds as it should. And I become just a small addendum to it ALL. A part of it ALL.
I think, Mom, that the moment I accepted that the garden (or back yard, or the wild space behind my house, call it as you wish) will go on being itself no matter what I feel or even what I do, was a really good moment – a beautiful learning moment in my “can-control-it-all” world and in my learned need to “look-good-for-neighbors” environment. Plus, it’s also true that I do not have 3 little kiddos running around anymore, whom I could blame/use (and, believe me, I did!) for not weeding or not tidying up the yard, as “they are boys, they really like it wild, you see…” – so, the responsibility of keeping it somewhat neat and presentable… is all on me now!
I think, I have accepted that irregular and sporadic bits of yard work will not make our yard perfect and perfectly presentable, but I also know (from experience) that it will make my heart beat with pride : we actually have that little patch of the Earth behind our house, and we can make it better (or let it make itself better, and … accept that we did not contribute or do much!), and we can watch it in awe (in either case!); the rains, the winds, the scorched days of dryness, the continuous sunshine, the temperature changes – that all drastically changes the landscape! And then (as a result) we are privileged to observe the changes in our lavender, the wild flowers, the geraniums, the olive trees, the citrus trees…
And it is all here : changing, growing, wilting, blossoming, over- growing, giving joy and giving grief, and all unfolding at its own rate, at its own time – just in time. No hurry. No blame. Just being.
When doing garden work, I am forced to accept demands and expectations of simply being and simply working, and, as a reward, just simply (and surprisingly) being allowed to be a part of this “nature world where everything gets accomplished without hurry” – doing my small (and often futile and sporadic) weeding, digging, watering, picking, cutting, pulling, composting, pruning, planting – and… feeling elated and thankful for that. That’s a surprise! That’s quite something!
Wow! Wait a minute… Mom, is that what you meant, when saying : “… you will love it ”?
You meant that simple, sensuous breeze on my cheek, and not the actual gardening? You meant those wild clouds, the unexpected, glorious sounds, the memories creating and solidifying smells – all that makes my life rich and meaningful, and real, and yet, allows me to take a pause from everyday to-do- and to-be- lists – was what was going to make me love the actual gardening? Or is it all one and the same, and inseparable… and unfolding as it should?
No matter the answer – you were right, Mom – yes, I do love it!
In my own twisted and (definitely) imperfect way!
And I can see you smile when I say that…
Written by Indra Strong, Certified Let It Go Yoga teacher.
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I enjoyed your essay very much.-Well written. You have reminded me of the joy of gardening, which has been hard to conjure up as I look at the oxalis that has sprung up everywhere. And you have reminded me also to accept the sporadic rhythm of yard work and not fret that I cannot get more done. Thanks,
Indra – wonderful story, I love your mothers presence in this story. On some way Mother Earth talks with you, you are her child. Wonderful and so truthful – when our errands become poetry 🙂
Dace Micāne-Zālīte
Thanks for sharing your experience. The little piece of land for which you are responsible teaches you a lot of things, including patience. All unfolding at its own rate, but not when you want it.
Thank you Indra. Your story reminds me my mom, summerhouse and lake. You have been there and you know what I am talking about. 😘