The other night as I was going to bed, I couldn't help but feel that I had wasted my day. It had been gorgeous outside, but I'd been indoors puttering around on my computer, trying to figure out how to do something that never really panned out. In addition, I had spent a couple hours putting out a fire that I had inadvertantly set . Ugh!
I thought of all the meaningful, productive, or just plain fun things I could have done instead, and I felt frustrated. Then, what floated into my mind was the image of a garden, and I sensed an inner voice asking the questions: "If your life were a garden, what would it look like? How did you tend your garden today."
Hmmmm, that's interesting. I thought about it and realized that in spite of my frustration I had probably accomplished something this day. Certainly I had learned a lesson or two about what not to do. Maybe I had planted a couple seeds that would eventually grow into something of value. Or maybe I'd just turned over some soil in preparation for planting.
Okay, so that felt a little better. As I looked over my inner garden, I saw lots of beautiful flowers and trees, and lots of happy garden fairies. There was an adorable puppy---all young and energetic and sweet. Granted, the little guy was peeing all over the place, but that's what puppies do, right? There were also plenty of weeds in the garden, and the lawn needed some work, but hey, I never said this was Jardin des Tuileries, now did I?
I decided that my garden was quite decent and had lots of potential. Not only that, it had obviously been cared for over time. And maybe I hadn't accomplish a lot today, but I did manage to pull a handful of weeds and prep the ground for the work I'd do tomorrow. At least I didn't leave the hose running all day and flood the garden. Maybe today wan't so bad afterall.
Next what floated through my mind were images of compost and manure and all the other questionable things we actually prize as fertilizer. Oh, now that's VERY interesting. Perhaps I was being reminded that sometimes the ickiest, most objectionable things in life are ultimately what make our gardens grow the best. Perhaps I was being shown that life on earth is a work in progress, a series of seasons and harvests and varying crop conditions. Maybe we're not expected to be expert gardeners, or maybe some days we are that, while other days we're not.
So tell me, how does your garden grow?