Gardening as Metaphor
I have a bunch of Sun Drops in a pot. I love them, they’re beautiful, and I admire their exuberance but they needed a gentle limit, a setting of boundaries (which has never been my strong suit).
I pulled a few, to make room for other plants, all competing in the same small space for a limited amount of nutrients, (in short, a jungle). I’ve never done this. It felt strange, imposing my wishes upon what nature intended but as I gently uprooted the overflow for elsewhere (a neighbor told me she threw her excess in the trash. It made me wince), I knew my heart was in the right place.
I’ve lived somewhere between “Let everything take its course” and “I didn’t sign up for this.” I don’t feel a need to control life’s unfolding, but I have the right to shape it to suit me. “You’re not being a good neighbor,” I say to my encroaching plants. The fine line; when to leave it be, when to step in, as in parenting, is a delicate margin. A dance, sometimes subtle, sometimes downright chaotic, between the freedom of one to express their oneness, inside the container of Every Other One, who sustains, supports and upholds it. We are one inside the one, our balance effects the whole. Gardening as metaphor.
Dig down, root deep, reach for the sky. Be a good neighbor; send out peace, include everyone, love without judgment or conditions, heal your grievances and grow. All for one and one for all. Plant Love.
LBM 6/13/2021
