Come, Share, Grow!

Flower Gardening for the Soul

The days are getting longer; the sun is getting stronger; the earth awakens and so do I.  After months of being locked in the house due to snow and cold, pouring over shiny catalogues, I have my battle plan mapped out.  It’s time to get to work and put it into action.

Why do my flower gardens call to me so?  I long to bury my hands in the dirt, giving life to my plan.  Giving life – perhaps the answer lies there, in creation, in taking what many would consider a small speck of nothing and nursing it into something that brings beauty to the eye and calmness to the soul.  Life, creation, peace and purpose all wrapped up in one cluster of plants.

I step into my garden and time stops.  The rest of the world simply fades away, leaving only me and my flowers.  I brush my hand across the curve and softness of a flower petal and think back to a sleeping baby’s cheek, flush and rosy with sleep, complete innocence radiating forth.  Flowers do not beat their children or murder their spouses, they don’t do drugs, drink themselves into oblivion, have countless affairs or gamble away their paychecks before they even make it home.

My beautiful flowers never call me stupid, or fat, or I’m worthless and will never amount to anything.  None of those thoughts are allowed here among the greenness of stems and leaves.  Whoever could imagine so many shades of green in one small spot?  Fortunately, my flowers do not participate in prejudices either.  My purple petunias have no problem living in joy next to the red salvia; little blue-eyed grasses are completely content growing under the watchful eye of a drooping sunflower head hanging happily above them.

As I walk among my flowers, horizons open, potential peaks and possibilities become endless.  The pain of a difficult childhood flows out of my veins along with the hard words that have come from those I love.  Feelings of shame, guilt, worthlessness and low-self esteem fall away considerably lightening my load.  It is hard to hold onto depression when staring eye to eye with a crazy daisy.

In this peace and calmness, I can allow myself, my soul, to open and release the beauty that is me.  With my toes dug deep into the dark dirt, I can spread my arms wide, turn my face to the sun and soak in all that possibility that the world holds.

In finding the soul of my garden, I can find the garden of my soul and cultivate it to give me the life I am seeking, here in my garden; a life of limitless possibilities.  And, if I don’t like what I have planted, if it has turned out wrong, I can pull it up, turn it under and start over with a new plan in a new season.

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