I share frequently on Face book my gardens. I have a "love affair" with my flowers and plants. I have area's that I call the nursery where plants are being started or need some extra tender loving care. It is more than a passion. It was shared with me a very long time ago from a mentor, if you want to get grounded the two easiest ways to do that are to clean your toilet or dig your hands in the earth. While the toilet must be cleaned, I find it much more enjoyable to dig my hands into the earth.
We make our own compost and usually have eight to ten yards of compost ready for spring planting each year. Though it may not be the most attractive part of gardening, we always have piles of compost in various stages around the property. Here in Florida that rich black earth is priceless. I digress.
This morning my thoughts were to spend some time in the front gardens which have been some what neglected in the past month. The famous "stink weed" plant growing rampant. The peeking of wild carrot and other blades of "weeds" poking around the crocus. It can be a bit dangerous for me to weed actually as I am highly allergic to the red ants that seem to be everywhere in Florida. It has been suggested that I wear long sleeves, high socks, and most definitely gloves when I garden. Of course, I can not bring myself to wear gloves. The touch of the dirt against my finger tips just gives me goosebumps and transports me to another place.
So what is the lesson? I have often used the metaphor of weeding my garden's for weeding the unwanted or no longer useful parts of life. With each blade pulled, I would visualize the pulling of something from my life (perhaps a bad habit or negative thought). This has always been my lesson in the gardens to look deeply within and what no longer serves me on my path today. This morning was different. This morning I sat on the grass at first just savoring the warm rays of the sun beaming down. Inhaling deeply to breath all that fresh air into my lungs. Having not been out there for some time I was soaking it all in.
As I started to pull some of the stink weed from around a plant, I heard a distinct voice whispering "ouch". I stopped and looked around for a moment. Being that I often "hear" things, I had to make sure it was a whisper in the wind and not someone actually speaking. Shaking my head I began again to pull and tug at the difficult weed.
I often talk with my flowers as I am working in the gardens and today was no different. Well, it was different actually. I was cursing at the stink weed. "I have done everything to get rid of you. I burned you to send the signature out that you are not wanted. I have buried you. I have burned you. What do I have to do to make you stop growing in my garden?"
That is when it happened - the big "ahha" lesson. The "stink weed" started talking back. Then the birds started yelling and squawking. My quiet peaceful time in the garden was not to be. "Why are you trying to kill me?"
"You are a weed," I started in this long conversation with the stink weed.
"A weed to you, but not to all."
"I do not know a gardener that would call you anything but a weed."
"The creator does not make mistakes in what creates. I am only a weed because you say so. Do you not think that their is a purpose for all things?"
Gasp! A "stink weed" is going to give me a philosophical discussion on perspectives. This is so not going to happen. The weed is out of here was my thought. So I started tugging and pulling even harder and for some reason beyond my own understanding this particular strand I could not pull out of the ground. I sat back a bit frustrated.
I was forced to listen to the words in winds that the "stink weed" was speaking. The perspective of what I determine to be a weed and what the Creator determines to be a weed was shifting. It was only because I had a preconceived notion as to what the garden should look like that I deemed what was weed and what was not. As I sat there contemplating what was being shared, I was startled by a black racer snake. A rather large black racer. While they are not dangerous and are welcome in my gardens, the size startled me.
In total amazement and complete awe, I got to experience (for the first time I might add) a snake shedding its skin. As the snake slowly moved through the stink weed and crocus flowers it began to emerge from the skin. I dared not move fearing I would scare the beautiful renewal process. Mesmerizing is the only word I can use to describe. Once the process was complete and it did take some time, the whispers began again.
"There is a purpose to all things. A weed is only a weed because you perceive it to be so. This is true in your garden as it is in your life." Ouch!
Lessons can come from any place if only our hearts and souls are open to hearing them.