Imagine stepping into your favorite botanical garden or nursery. Notice how, the moment you enter, everything slows down. You begin to take in the day more fully—looking up at the blue sky, observing the clouds, and even predicting whether an afternoon shower might be on the way.
As you walk among the plants, you pause to notice even the smallest of them. Every plant seems to demand attention and care. In the back of your mind, you’re already picturing your own garden and imagining how a new addition might fit into your developing paradise.
Gardeners, horticulturists, and nursery people all share a special, mellow vibe. They’re my kind of people. They wake up each day eager to roll up their sleeves and get their hands dirty. They know that plants grow at their own pace, and they take things in stride—because, as they know, the plants aren’t going anywhere.
When sowing a seed, it already knows exactly what it’s meant to become. There is no doubt that when that little tomato seed finds its place in the soil, it will grow into a tomato plant, yielding beautiful, juicy, red tomatoes. As it grows into a seedling and pushes its way up through the soil, it knows that it’s headed toward the light.
Seedlings are tender and fragile at first—luminous and hairy—contorting into different shapes as they emerge into the world. They need good, rich soil and plenty of water. The careful touch of a gardener’s green fingers ensures their progress. They endure the harshness of the sun and the occasional storm. Once they begin to flourish, they hit their stride, growing strong and fast. And when I see those first small tomatoes, it always takes my breath away! How did it happen so quickly? It’s a kind of magic to witness it, every single time.
My inner life is a garden. What is cultivated on the inside blooms outward, ready to be seen by the world.
To know your true self—to understand the kind of plant you are meant to be—is essential. You must be sown into deep, rich, fertile soil, well-drained and full of air—just like a solid meditation practice and the ability to connect. These are the basics of life cultivation.
We are all fragile when we first find our way. Questions, obstacles, and insecurities plague the best of us. We all need tending—to help us become what we are meant to be. Even when we hit our stride, we sometimes still need support to grow strong and straight. As we begin to flourish and bear fruit, a little organic protection might be needed to keep the bugs from spoiling the harvest.
Two things to remember:
- Stop rushing and putting pressure on yourself to be where you think you should be—grow into yourself, beautifully and naturally.
- When cultivating your life, remember: that sowing the seed is just the beginning. Growing comes naturally, and the harvest is the reward of knowing yourself.
As Lao Tzu so wisely says, “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” Nature moves at its own pace, and so can we—finding peace in the process of becoming.
If you need some tending, someone to help you grow and keep an eye on your progress—I am rolling up my sleeves every morning, eager to get my hands dirty.
Still growing and still becoming. In this together.
Sandra