A Lesson from the Garden
Recently I was troubled and wrestling with thoughts of work, family, failed relations and departed friendships. Within my house, I heard the sounds of nature calling me from the garden. I walked gently to the center of the garden and stood still. I pondered how the plants, grasses, bushes and trees stood motionless as the birds sang, insects rapidly passed by and, beyond that, there were the beautiful sounds coming from the pond as though orchestrated. The breeze picked-up, suddenly there was motion in the garden, blades of grass swaying with the breeze, as the insects and birds darted back and forth in a strange synchronicity. I felt a pull to join and began a moving meditation utilizing the moves from a martial arts tradition I practice named Kaze Arashi ryu. All of a sudden, I was no longer a stranger in the garden but part of a ballet with nature. It was movement without thought, eyes open but not seeing, and sounds heard but faded in the distance along with what was troubling me.
An old branch broke and fell from the tree; I noticed the new growth that already had begun to grow in the remaining broken area and thought how that related to our lives. When I look at a lawn I see beautiful green growth, while old blades of grass deteriorate and die beneath and become nutrients for new growth. Our failed relations and friendships can only become a guide toward new and better ones.
I see new growth and not what festers and dies beneath, taking along with it the bitterness, abusiveness, verbal attacks, jealousies, dislikes that others may harbor. The sadness of lost loved ones turns into new growth and care toward others still around. The problems at work turn into new energy toward positive thoughts of improvements within the paths of our careers. Just like I would give nutrients, water, or replant a deteriorating section of a garden. A garden has shown me a continued path toward change and progress; in gratitude, I continue to care for it.
By: Henri-Robert Vilaire