When the world wearies and society ceases to satisfy,
there is always the garden.
~ Minnie Aumonier
arden therapy. If it isn’t a term, it should be.
There are many things that bring me peace and a sense of relaxed well being. A deep conversation with a friend. Soaking up the beauty and majesty of a mountain range. Writing in my journal. Improvising on the piano.
But there is something special, something “other” about working the garden while the dew still quivers on every blade of grass, and the breeze gives lingering caresses to the trees. There is a sacred silence that respects my separateness, yet at the same time, embraces me as kin.
Out here, there is just me, the earth, the sun, the air, and the water. It is primal, yet ordered. Silent, yet filled with the sound of life. Restful, yet energizing. There are no bills to pay, no deadlines to meet, no work to be done but the original work of tending the garden. And this being the country, there are no neighbors two inches away to raise an eyebrow when I coo over a tomato plant, scold a wondering cucumber arm, caress a newly born squash, or philosophize with a dragonfly. And even if someone did happen upon me, why should I feel embarrassed?
Plants have been known to grow faster and taller when they hear Beethoven, why shouldn’t they listen and be soothed by the gentle cadence of the loving voice of their caretaker?
Two more cucs are ready to pick, and I praise them for their beautiful length and healthy green skin. I gather basil and arugula and a few cherry tomatoes. I stand still, take a full, deep breath, and with eyes closed, raise my face in quiet joy to soak up the gentle warmth of the sun. I shut out everything but the ripeness of this moment. In another hour or so, life with all its dysfunction and petty heartaches will seize my attention, and drain my energy. But right now, there is no pain, no heartache. I kneel before my tomatoes and set them free from weeds.
And in return, they pull the weeds of care from my soul.
Oremus pro invicem,
Is your garden a place of peace? What are your favorite quiet moments of the day? Morning, afternoon tea, or right before bed?