By Judy Funderburk, Extension Master Gardener
“The soil of life in which we grow speaks a different language than we are taught in school.”
(Mark Nepo – The Book of Awakening)
This sentence, from a reading in my daily meditation book, jumped out at me as a deep truth that I needed to spend time with and muse upon. What is the soil of life for me? It is true that having a garden and being a gardener bring me lessons without a chalkboard or a computer. Gardening invites me to be immersed in the cycles of the seasons, to pay attention to texture of soil where seeds are being planted, whether the soil is of the earthy kind or a new idea spreading its seeds inside me. The bees are teachers too – when I take time to “be” with them, awed by their busy/buzzy lives, searching for the nectar of flowers, spreading pollen, cross-fertilizing. What is the nectar, the pollen, for me? What parts of my life might benefit from cross-fertilization?
Will I engage with this soil of life and allow it to take me away from my “to do” list? Can I learn to be in the moment, to grow and learn through engaging, to value process over product?
Perhaps! The garden takes me from the goal of collecting hours to becoming aware of emerging shoots springing upward, buds forming on stems, green fragrant growth, all teachers sharing their presence if I stay present, noticing and caring for each new beginning. The underlying soil and rotating seasons also invite me to enter into the “fall” time of leaves drying, flying, landing – to notice the gifts of each season’s process – how it takes time for leaves and stems to become mulch and compost, to nourish and create life-giving soil while also providing homes and protection for fireflies, ants, seeds. A wonderfully repeating cycle. Nepo says, “…the quiet teachers are everywhere.”
May we stay open to the soil of life around us and receptive to the garden’s messages. May we find even in the dark soil of some of our days the seed that begins to root, that grows toward the light, that supports and feeds the flowering of our be-ing.