The Garden of Life
"We come from the earth, we return to the earth, and in between we garden.” ― Alfred Austin
Tending to our garden has become an unexpected modality for healing. Until recently, I couldn't keep anything green alive. Upon reflection, I understand why my plant babes were so unhappy. I was impatient, didn’t prepare a foundation of nutrient rich soil, and over-watered (without realising there were other ways to show I cared). Like learning a love language, gardening is a humbling experience.
The more time I spend in the garden, the more conscious I've become of the natural seasons. This has tiptoed its way into my everyday life as I’ve found myself more forgiving of my own cycles. Days are layered with slivers of compassion, grace, and acceptance that I used to think was reserved for everyone else, but me. As a student of life, each time I learn the same lesson there is a depth of understanding that couldn't have been accessed before because it’s woven upon the fabric of yesterday's wisdom. I've learnt the ripest fruits only exist because of the fallen leaves, debris, and compost of bygone seasons.
I recently took myself on a date to Bunnings and wandered past a collection of vibrant, joyful Cosmos Daisies. I have a (not so) secret obsession with English Cottage Gardens, and love sourcing pages on Instagram as they fill my feed with visual happiness. I recognised these flowers as soon as I saw them! I did a bit of research and was disappointed to realise Cosmos Daisies are annuals.
Other than our vege patch, I made myself a promise that anything I purchased for the garden would be something that would last for years to come, but I was taken aback by the way they were dancing in the Spring breeze. Something told me I would leave the store with a few of these delightful bundles - no matter how much resistance showed up.
I convinced myself they were probably too expensive (even though they weren’t labeled), so I asked how much they were. A lovely lady assisted me, and mentioned they were $3.15 per pot. She went on to explain they also attract butterflies. As a lover of symbols of hope, as well as drawing bee and butterfly friends into the yard, I made an exception and left with a few extra plant friends.
On the way home I got curious about why I was so resistant to purchase something that was fleeting. As human beings, it’s a hard truth that nothing lasts forever. These annuals are no more impermanent than I am.
Rather than clinging to the idea that these flowers won’t last long and being disheartened by having them in the garden, I decided they would be the perfect daily anchor. I’ve given myself an invitation to go outside each day and observe the changes as they dance their way through the cosmos. Life is full and often overwhelming, so even if I stop for a minute as I leave for work, it’s a reminder to pause, breathe, and observe the fleeting magic of the moment. Meeting these flowers, much like my life, with intention, curiousity, and an open heart... knowing that one day they will become nutrients for tomorrow, just as we (as humans), will leave legacies behind for those who tended to the garden of our lives.