I wonder how many of us throughout the years have lovingly tended either a vegetable or a flower garden, or perhaps both? We planted flora, grasses, and veggies in carefully selected plots of soil that we ardently tilled to perfection. We purchased the healthiest plants we could find. Selected flower seeds and arranged them according to their color contrasts and height in order to affect the most eye-popping exhibits in our neighborhoods. No sacrifice was too demanding. On throbbing bent knees, and often in the blazing sun, we weeded, fed them nutrients, and quenched their undying thirst. It seemed a small sacrifice as we anticipated the fruits of our labor. And then, we fluffed our feathers for doing such a great job, and patiently sat back, relaxed, and expected nature to take its course so we could gather our bounty.
Before long we were rewarded for our effort. The flowers began to unfurl their petals in a variety of beguiling pastels and ravishing radiance. The vegetables produced succulent edibles that satisfied even the most persnickety palate.
So great was our satisfaction that we continued to sow and reap this pleasure year after year: Adding, subtracting, and retaining our favorites, we became expert gardeners.
But as we aged, some of us realized that alongside our beautiful gardens, there lay an untilled plot bereft of tending. It shed its undefined emptiness across the spectrum of our souls.
I wrestled with this dilemma for some time, and after discussing it with like-minded friends, it finally dawned on me: The missing entity in my own backyard was a Spiritual Garden.
But where and how should I begin? What space would provide the most verdant soil in which to grow such a garden? Certainly, not the one between my ears. That space is often either too barren to feed my fledging faith or too full of random chaos and garbage to nurture any kind of Spirituality. Spirituality should reflect an Island of peace and serenity, right?
Since just the right space hadn’t manifested yet, I decided to focus on what I wanted to grow in this Spiritual Garden and how I might expand that. For starters, I sifted through some of the virtues that I felt I might be lacking. A few of the obvious ones begging my attention were Patience, gratitude, and humility.
I knew I had a small pittance of the three, but like tiny, neglected buds, they rarely bloomed. And so, in order to make them flourish, I began gathering bits and pieces from those who I knew had an abundance of them. My sister, for instance, both possessed and actively practiced her gratitude. It manifested itself in her radiant smile, a genuine interest in others, and her commitment to a daily ritual of prayer and meditation.
My AA sponsor was another source of inspiration. If she was ever frustrated by my rebellious nature, or weary of raising the curtain on new perspectives, she never showed it. Instead of pointing out my misconceptions, she simply sat back and allowed me to spout off a bevy of excuses that proved I wasn’t an alcoholic: Until that is, I was overwhelmed by the thunder of the stupidity that was bouncing back. God, did I really believe that bull….? She must have prayed for patience, and God sent her me.
Humility was really tricky. I didn’t quite understand that principle. I thought that every time I hung my head, hid my merit, and profusely apologized for being myself, that I was being humble. Or, that those boisterous braggards, always vying for attention, were the only ones who lacked humility. It wasn’t until I was further along in the program that I finally realized that true humility is an acceptance of who one truly is, the good and bad. It is about recognizing our humanness.
Once I had my starters, I assembled a few basic tools and continued searching for a plot that could accommodate my new garden’s unfolding. I looked high and low, but nothing jumped out. Those being considered were either lacking spontaneity, the perimeters were too small to support expansion, or the foundations were too rocky and unyielding to harbor any serenity. The expedition was wearing me out. It had become a crusade. With every accelerated beat of my heart, my anxiety was mounting. What if such a place didn’t exist?
Realizing that I had hit a wall, I decided to put it aside for a while. Then, one evening, as I was scrolling through Facebook, I came across a video that captured the responses of several babies, who, thanks to a new hearing device, were experiencing the sound of their mother’s voice for the very first time. It was miraculous.
Tears welled as I watched the animated joy spreading across their faces. I could literally feel the increased drumming of my own heart. I had found the source of my dilemma. My Spiritual Garden could only emanate from the heart; a space that was unencumbered by ego and other frivolous distractions. My garden had finally found a home. Its pulse is in sync with every beat of my heart. Thus, I began to plant one earned value at a time, allowing it to take hold according to my Higher Power’s schedule.
Author Dallas H 