Of Preparation

How is it that we continue to prepare the soil of our Gardens season after season, year after year, knowing how hard we must toil to achieve what we see in our Dreams? How is it that we come time and time again to make our beds fertile, despite droughts, and floods, despite heat waves, or despite polar vortexes? Why do we bother to pick through the rocks and the refuse and the rubbish?

Honestly, I don’t know.

Perhaps we do these things to remind ourselves of the value of our Dreams. Perhaps we do these things to show ourselves that they can be achieved no matter how circumstances may appear. Perhaps this is the very soul cleansing work which is necessary to enable us to be enriched with the capacity to receive the things we so earnestly seek to bear.

Perhaps then we do not prepare our Gardens, but our Gardens are preparing us.

Perhaps our rocks are formed of criticism, and the refuse and the rubbish are our doubt. We methodically seek these things out and find them, removing them and returning them to that from whence they came. Our fertile beds seek for us to grow, but they jealously hoard us for themselves. They do not seek to share the delight of us with others, for they alone wish to feel us flourish.

And once all that must be cleared and cleaned away has been tended, we can go about the business of sharing our Fruit with the world.

Perhaps this then is the true Gift of all Gardens: they allow us the space to Grow.

Happy Writing