Today I looked out my window to find that the willow tree I had planted about oh, six months ago, had fallen over and was atop the grass at a deadly 90 degree angle.
My awareness of the situation was followed with a few expletives of surprise and an immediate departure outside to rescue it.
The garden in my backyard is finally taking shape and Willy the Willow is my pride and joy. He’s the first thing that I planted, lasted all winter, and I’ll be damned if the bastard quits on me now simply because he lacks the spinal resilience to go on.
Gently I pulled it upright, grabbed a rope, tied it to the bamboo stick that was bracing it, and drove off to work.
In life, we surround ourselves with psychological familiarities that reflect pieces of ourselves. They reflect the underpinnings of our personalities. The hoarder’s house is full of clutter, as is their mind. The preacher’s house is full of religious symbols and paintings. My garden is full of things that can either flourish or wither – things that are beautiful.
I didn’t get a hearty maple tree. I got a weeping willow, a drooping, sad, beautiful bastard of a tree that requires constant support and rescuing while it grows in my windy yard. I love it the most for those reasons.
Constantly I sip on my coffee and look out my window at my tree. When I go into the garden, I look at my tree first.
It is the potential within it in spite of the its current state of weakness that I love to reinforce.
Gardening is one of the most rewarding things we can do with life. Why? Because it it requires leaving the things we wish to tend to; it requires the releasing of that which we care for and the faith that they will continue to grow without our observation.
I had a pumpkin seedling that was withered so I put it in new soil, watered it and went to bed. When I got back up and returned from work the next day I found that it was completely fine. It’s stronger than I would have expected. The realization gave me a bit of joy. It surprised me. This surprise is what life is all about.
How does the garden of your mind look?
Do you let things go overnight in acceptance? Do you allow that which you have cared for to die so that it might flourish and surprise you?
Often, we tend to forget about the things we plant, the memories that exist, the fallen things of old expectations – but they are still growing even when we drive away from them.
Be vigilant in regards to what is growing in your own mind, and never restrain yourself from rescuing beautiful thoughts.