The Moment – The Love – The Garden (springtime)

Annie Dillard:

“It is spring, I plan to try to control myself this year, to watch the progress of the season in calm and orderly fashion. In spring I am prone to wretched excess.”

Annie Dillard never fails me, she always says the perfect words to inspire me. If I want to go to that special place in my heart, I open one of her books, the page doesn’t matter, the feeling will come. I was given a special gift yesterday, it was the gift of joy, the freedom to go behind the veil and visit a magical garden, it woke my senses, the garden spilled over into my child like eyes and woke them as well, the imagery was pure enchantment. Had I arrived in Shangri-la?

Annie Dillard says “We teach our children one thing only, as we were taught: to wake up. We teach our children to look alive there, to join by words and activities the life of human culture on the planet’s crust.  As adults we are almost all adept at waking up. We have so mastered  the transition we have forgotten we ever learned it. Yet it is a transition we make a hundred times a day, as, like so many will-less dolphins, we plunge and surface, lapse and emerge. We live half our waking life lives and all of our sleeping lives in some private, useless, and insensible waters we never mention or recall. Useless, I say. Valueless, I might add – until someone hauls their wealth up to the surface and into the wide-awake city, in a form that people can use.”

That my friends is what I found and experienced in a most treasured sort of way yesterday…..I came alive, over and over, the visual images coming at me in brilliant shades and splashes of colors and not just the colors, the wonderful aroma of those flowers lifted my senses and intoxicated that little child in me with all the razzle dazzle one could have wished for, I truly found myself heading down further and further into the rabbit hole.

Labor of Love and Other Garden Thoughts~

My good friend T.O. Wilson sent me a few poems a week or two ago, one of those poems goes like this…

I don't think it ever really mattered
which direction we were walking
just as long as we were walking

I like what T.O. says, I get that, I have been running most of my life, trying to get to that right spot, the one with all the goodies, the place that can fill that hole and make me feel “right”.  I looked for love in all the wrong places and found more reasons to blame others for my character defects than most folks have time to even ponder. However, sometime during that 5oth ride around the sun, I came to the conclusion, that I need not run anymore. I was given a gift and that gift allowed me to stop running. I walk now, and the slower I go the more gifts I get. I no longer need to fill the hole and the package that God wrapped and set aside for me, is open wide and all I have to do open my eyes and find that moment. Walking down the road, taking a little time to open my heart and the gifts come at me like a landslide.

As Sandy and her friend (the gardener and her helper) worked diligently in their space you see on the the photo above, she and I visited, she hardly looked up from her task at hand, she was immersed in the moment, her hands tilling the soil, picking away at the crust of earth below and taking care to manicure and clean her parcel of land so folks like me could walk by and find love. She offered  to little me the opportunity to freely enter her garden and take as much time as I liked to enjoy her labor of love, for me to share in her fruits of the earth. I was amazed, I was humbled and inspired beyond words.

So many flowers, so hard to see….

Quote Thoreau:

“There were times I could not afford to sacrifice the present moment to any work, whether of head or hands. I love a broad margin to my life. Sometimes, in a summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, I sat in my sunny doorstep from sunrise to noon, rapt in revelry, amidst the pines and hickories and sumach’s, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, while the birds sang round or flittered noiseless through the house, until by the sun falling in my west window, or the noise of some traveler’s wagon on the distant highway, I was reminded of the lapse of time. I grew in those seasons like corn in the night, and they were far better than any work of the hands would have been.”

There is so much honest truth in what he says, and how better to describe our life and the experiences we get to partake than using  Thoreau’s “growing like corn in the night” how true, how perfectly appropriate. Whenever I slow down, take time to get in the rowboat of life and let go of the oars, that is when  my joy meter goes off the charts. No expectations; good or bad, just let go and flow with the current. Yesterday was so uplifting, and it should not have to be that every day either, some days present themselves with colors of gray and dark blue, those are meant to reflect and know that those days provide a chance to improve upon our relationship with life. I like all the colors.

Another one of T.O.’s poems;

it is only the way i have gone.
it is not the right way.
it is not the way you should have gone.
it was the path i needed to follow.
it was the but the music i heard.
it was not what you needed to hear.
it was that i walked the way i did….
slowly down the beach looking out to the sea.
gently down the road watching the seasons change the colors so.
and they were only the colors i saw.
they were my shades and my hues.
they were not what you needed to see.
it was not what you needed to do.
it is not what you need to do.
it is not what you need to see.
it is only my life. it is only my song.
it is but the path i needed to follow.
it is not the right way.
it is not the way you should have gone.
it is only the way i have gone
t.o. wilson

yes, it was….

Thanks for visiting


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