Life will find a way.
As I work with the quackgrass, a grass with rhizomes like cordage, a neural network undermining my garden from below, I am inspired by its ability to find a way in spite of my best efforts. That life always finds a way is one of the powerful lessons I learn in the garden each day as I break the surface tension that keeps me standing up, and kneel in the garden. This used to be a harder threshold to cross. Now it is a bit ecstatic – I get to lose myself in something so vast – be part of nature’s great wheel.
I am not a Buddhist or a Buddhist scholar, but the wheel reminds me of this: Mahayana and Tibetan Buddhists have a beautiful image of the bhavacakra, a representation of the cyclic nature of life. While the wheel has profound symbolic symbolism that pertains to inner liberation, it also refers to the cyclical nature of life itself. For thousands of years, humans have changed their consciousness through finding ways to stand outside of this wheel. As a westerner, I am heir to Western ways of standing outside of it: monotheistic religions, scientific inquiry, and rationalism. There is a part of me – my consciousness – that is free from the wheel. But there is something oh-so delicious about diving back into it because I want to.
I love being out in the garden in the dawn and the dusk. The air is extra fragrant and I can often smell several fragrances at once – rose, honeysuckle, fermenting straw, and the soil itself. Rudolph Steiner spoke of the breathing of the earth. I can feel that the soil is exhaling in the evening, and I love being part of this exhale. Crows and herons go home to roost, and the owls come out, scolding each other with loud hisses.
My life as a mother is often hectic, too loud for me. The evening is a time of romance in the garden, when the beloved in my heart meets the colors in the sky and a quiet rapture ensues.
I feel small and held. I feel as large as the sky and as small as a seed.
I feel agency, and I know that I am not in control.
I feel absolute belonging to the land. The land owns me. The land is my life.