November 2, 2011
Me and my garden is One. 0
Autumn.
Going into the garden to rake the leaves.
There is a lovely, huge maple tree in the back of our garden. She carries a lot of leaves. I love that tree! And she has all these tree- children and some tree- sisters in the “ten-meter forest” too.
I can go into the garden being very rational. Using a lot of energy to pile up all the leaves and put them in huge plastic bags, going to war against the autumn and get tired and bored. But I refuse to do it this way. So I waited for that moment of a yes to arise.
I went out, smelling the autumn, the smell of death of summer. The wet soil. The leaves. Listening to the bullfinch singing, telling about all the great food in the trees around.
There is a rock in the back too, by Mrs. Maple’s feet. I love that rock also. I can’t explain why, I just do.
I sat there, on my knees, picking up golden leaves from the cracks in that grey rock when it happened.
“This is my body. I am the garden, and the garden is my self. I don’t know any longer whether it is me taking care of the garden, or the garden taking care of me.”
A deep connection arising. A surrender to Earth. So much love arising, and so much gratitude. Not for anything in particular. Just a very pure and simple gratitude. The one that you can’t explain because if you try, you’re stuck with a throat thick of un-cried tears.
I have had gardens to tend to before this one. And I was a “good gardener”. Growing a lot of herbs and vegetables, fruits and flowers. Very nicely. And I loved it. But never before have I felt this that came to me now. I don’t have to do this garden to please or to show or to do anything for anyone. I’m only taking care of her, giving her my love. And she answers me in her very silent and precious way.
And I think, this rock must be a magic rock!
– Petra and Mrs. Maple. -
I’ve spent so many hours with her, while bringing forth her beauty she is “doing” my inner life. I’ve often had insights and relieves coming from being with her. I feel at home with her. She has been hiding, neglected for years. Now, once again, she can show her nature. Today she told me her name, and my mind got like ´huh?´- what kind of a name is that ? I actually don’t like her name that much.. .. but of course her name is Petra. (fem. of Petrus, meaning Rock.) My mind wanted a name like Devi this or that, or something more holy… but no, it is Petra. Get used to it baby! Looking out of the window in the morning, I see her. Sitting in my corner writing, I see her. Now I can greet her with a name. Cool, huh?
Enjoyable autumn!
-m-
