Sometimes in the car or garden I have these eureka moments, which could be really cool if I actually remembered what they were at least some of the time. For my blog, I bought myself a pretty nifty voice recorder so that I could document these amazing thoughts as they occur. Now, if I could just locate it, I’d be set. Last week while harvesting potatoes, I’m pretty sure I uncovered life’s greatest paradox. But like a dream, it slipped away before I made it out the garden gate.
As a kid, I loved car rides because I could somehow be alone with my thoughts with 6 other passengers and a blaring radio. My family was big on educational field trips to historic places and natural wonders. I was always disappointed when we arrived because it meant my thinking time had come to an end and I’d have to get out and learn something.
It’s interesting that the other place where this happens to me is the polar opposite to the loud confining high speed venue where my thoughts can get cosmic. When I go out to garden, it’s to do maybe one or two specific things that may or may not get done once I get out there. I get into a flow where I just do what catches my attention, and when I get really into it, whatever my task is teaches me something.
Perhaps because I have a big garden, people often ask if I have my kids do garden chores for me, assuming, I suppose that it’s too much for one person.
No. I don’t.
And besides, “garden chore” is an oxymoron. Well, I guess I’ll make an exception for Bermuda grass, but even that can be a good thing if you’re in the right frame of mind.
Is this wrong? Am I denying my children the hours of drudgery that every childhood should earn like a badge? If they want to come out, great, but they know that I’m not out there to chit chat and get all “educational,” unless they ask for it.
At times I will call them out to see something of immediate interest, but the garden’s not about work and it’s not about togetherness. It’s about reflection and being in flow because that’s just what happens to me. When people come out and ask me questions, like “When are we eating?” or “Have you seen my shin guards?” I’m sure they can see the gears working as I come back to the here and now. It’s sad, really, to see how long it takes me to register what’s been said. Early onset? No, just a woman doing what she loves and welcoming the drift into a different consciousness that naturally comes with it.
On occasion I’ve had opportunities to garden with others who are really into it. We ride the same wave of peaceful , quiet concentration and it’s a beautiful thing. When I get to enjoy that, it’s like a new bond has formed, similar to the connection one feels as they realize they’ve met their best friend. It’s deep and rooted, where understanding and love get things growing. As I said earlier, it’s not about togetherness, but I guess what I meant in my words above is forced togetherness. That just can’t happen. However, real connection happens naturally when you garden with a fellow gardener. I guess it’s like in sync musicians getting a good groove going, celebrating the unspoken joy of sharing a common language that only registers with a few.
No comments:
Post a Comment