Friday, July 02, 2010

Gardens

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The garden got weeded this morning. It is not much of a garden this year, lettuce and herbs and eight various tomato plants; not much a of harvest but what wasn't planted has made way for happy perennials which never mind showing off their colors.

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Gardens carry memories for me. And lessons. When I was newly married, my husband and I incredulously at 25 years old bought the first house I would own, a modest ranch on a half acre, not a mile from one of the most beautiful harbors and coastlines I will ever see.
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I planted my first garden in the side yard of that house and couldn't believe how within days patience delivered cracks in the ground, then the breakthrough of small buds, and then, inch by inch, plants!--tomatoes and green beans and eggplant and broccoli. There have been seasons I've had gardens and seasons I haven't. I like having them better than not having them.
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JB and I have lived in this house now for five years. It is a wonderful space and place. But something happened early on that was for some time lovely and at end horrible and I carry that sadness in the yard. Now, sometimes when I'm in my yard, I am reminded that love sometimes is not enough. And sometimes--I'm not sure--I wonder if love sometimes is not love.
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I thought of my garden today along side a post that Marion wrote yesterday on meadows and mountains. You should read it. Marion is very observant and very wise. She is also my Sister. There are so many many things I cannot tell you about Marion because I do not know them, but she and I are side by side in the Sisterhood. Go here if you don't know her already. And if you don't mind, tell her that kj loves her.
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The garden was overrun with weeds this morning. JB and I worked the better part of the day pulling some easy and some tenacious roots up and out. Now the garden looks like it just had the best haircut, and it looks happy about it.
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The weeds get piled into a wheelbarrel and tossed over the fence of our neighbor's backyard. She wants the deep slope to fill in so we can always dump our cuttings and clean ups there. That is a huge convenience and a small blessing.
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When weeds are pulled, they are left for dead and they die quickly. Same with flowers pulled from the ground because they've outlasted their appearance. It's no longer time for pansies in New England. They are first up in spring, but now they are leggy and tired. JB pulled them up but she did not put them in the wheelbarrel.
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Here they are, out of the ground, ready for their new gig in the house. What could be prettier?
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It's not always obvious which are weeds and which are flowers, what lives and what dies, and why.
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The Summer Day
Mary Oliver
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Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?
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Why do I assume I know anything? How do I know when I should be in the meadow and when it's time to head for the mountain and...when it's time that something may happen for reasons that I did not except and may not agree with? Of course I have hopes and goals and I follow them to various degrees. But beyond that what happens is not my call. When did I start believing, start knowing this? It lightens things up.
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What happens next is up to some power greater than me. My personal opinion is it's a benevolent universe. Why bad sad things happen in a benevolent universe is not something I can answer. But I think there's way far more good than bad in the world, and in myself.
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All I can do is show up, which I do. And Tend. Nourish. Weed. Wait. Care. Harvest.
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That's all I can do. Please God, let me look forward now. There are too many beautiful and purposeful plants and weeds, too beautiful and purposeful to miss another second.
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Happy Weekend All,

love kj

21 comments:

  1. Hi KJ. Odd how one can read an entire post that is so filled with variety and topics but get totally stuck on just one thought. In my case it was how life can sometimes be so unkind as it teaches us very hard lessons.

    I enjoyed the weeding topic. It marched right along with my goal for this coming week. I'm posting to my blog now just once a week and the draft, in preparation for posting it, states that my goal is to go out every morning and weed a quadrant of my garden. Of course, I have more than just quadrants to tackle but if I accomplish that task, I will have accomplished quite a lot.

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  2. hello annie, there may be a common theme in my blog that addresses both the wonder of life and too the sadness of being human. I think we learn from many lessons, some passionately amazing, others painfully mournful. i like your approach about weeding. i've promised myself i will always let myself ENJOY gardening. i won't let it become a chore. if it feels that way, the hell with it: i won't do it! same with blogging. i do both with such love and enjoyment.

    nice to have your visits, annie. here's wishing you a great weekend.

    xoxo
    kj

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  3. Ah kj, a very thoughtful post (i was trying to stay focused but your garden has me green with a bit of envy).
    I'm sorry you have sadness sometimes in your garden. I think Mary Oliver is so well loved because she speaks to all the emotions we feel, the deep happiness and despair too.

    And i think showing up is a beautiful thing to do.

    love, lori

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  4. ah lori. do you know i smile when i see you have commented? i am always very happy to see your name. do you know you inspire me to see starfish and slide right by the seaweed? i can hear you telling me that the seaweed is beautiful too. :)

    mary oliver lives in provincetown. she is around town here and there, gives quite a few readings. i wish i could write poems a fraction as well as she does.

    later, aligator. love from here.

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  5. Hi kj... i like your garden and can i say that sadness isn't in the garden, but in the mind of the heart...

    your garden is beautiful...

    take care
    be well
    big love and yes I love you too :)
    xxx

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  6. My darling, life is a garden, some things you nurture and they respond to your care, others, you expend energy, fertilise, prune, mulch and they fade. Some plants will flourish with colour and perfume, others will wither and sour. Your garden both physical and metaphorical, will be a combination of both. The thing is to pluck our the weeds and leave the hardy to give you pleasure.

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  7. I think your garden's just the right size this year.
    The weeding and nurturing needs to go into you at this time.

    Prune the briars that still hold your heart prisoner.
    Pull the weeds of despair and fertilize your soul.
    Allow your heart to bloom again♥


    love you...
    xoxox
    Lo♥

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  8. Oh, kj. There are mysteries, mysteries, mysteries. I have spent the last two evenings sitting like a toad on my deck (except I get to have chair and a glass of wine, and a toad wouldn't), watching the sun set, listening to the birds, waiting for the fireflies, and staring at the clouds. Thinking about it all, and knowing it is one puzzle I will never be able to completely sort out. Realizing that is okay. Letting go of some things I need to let go of. Time well spent, I think. :) Please come to Maryland and help me weed. We have alien vines that are trying to take over our house!! Much love to you - xox Pam

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  9. This is an extraordinary post, kj. Thank you for mentioning me; you know I love you as well. We are indeed sisters of the heart, you and I.

    I'll bet the Moon was in Pisces when you wrote this. Pisces is my sign; when I have the Moon as my companion, I can get as weepy and thought laden as all get out. The Moon is in Aries now...you'll be amazed at how strong you will feel and how independent very shortly.

    You've done a lovely job cleaning the garden. It is a sad job, though, for me...I have to wait a whole year for some of the plants to bloom again, and I'm never very thrilled about that. Here, so much farther North than where you are, Spring plants such as the Pansy, will bloom at least until the end of August, when I will cut them back and enjoy more blooms until Frost comes along and cuts them down.

    This morning, as I sat down at my computer, the photos of previous gardens I have made rolled through on the monitor and those photos immediately bring back thoughts of what I was doing and where I was headed, when I made them. I'm happy with each and every garden I've made, but the thought came to me this morning that I did not know, as I gardened in them, that so many adventures and crises were in store for me.

    The garden has always healed me, after a loss. You don't have to plant very much to have a garden to find solace in. I agree with lolo...YOU need the nurturing at this time! xoxoxox

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  10. Well, kj, I focused on the lovely pics of your colourful garden and the care you have bestowed upon it and the joy you recieve. It thrives, you thrive. Happy weekend x p.s. word verification is 'hopedgu' - I like that - whatever it means!!!

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  11. If you could only plant two things, tomatoes and herbs are the things. And your lettuce looks beautiful - mine bolted a couple of weeks ago in the heat.

    So many of the good places in my life have an over-lay of sadness. I mow the back yard and remember a particularly unkind phone call I took once while mowing, for instance. Life is bittersweet.

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  12. What a meaningful post.... KJ, you are one amazing writer.....be it "fiction" or "non-fiction". There are already so deep and spot-on comments here, all I can say is, "Yes, they are right! What was said is true"

    I love the pansies and the beautiful pitcher they are in. (And, of course, I ♥ the colour!)

    These days, I rather feel like those pansies....

    Sending you and Stella love and hugs on a WARM SF day! Hip-Hip-Hooray!

    ♥ Robin ♥

    p.s. Marion IS an awesome woman....how lucky to know her!!!

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  13. I love your garden, Kj. And like you I love gardening. I got stuck on the line about sometimes what we think is love is not love, and I have come to realize this too. Sometimes it is need or obsession and has nothing to do with real love, which is not needy and is light and easy. Try telling that to someone who thinks they are in love though!
    I loved Marion's post, she always gives food for thought. I am often climbing, and while I have been in the meadow for a little while, I feel myself preparing for a climb in the near future.
    I do believe that we can control somethings and somethings we can't know ahead of time, but I believe we can control our response to those things and we have to trust.
    Trust is the main thing. And also love, love no matter what, ourselves and others.
    Happy weekend.
    xoxo

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  14. before i leave more comments, may i just say i am forever impressed and double impressed by everyone here! what a group!

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  15. robyn, 'in the mind of the heart': what a concept and image. of course you are 1000% right. whatever goes on with me these days, i welcome it (even the sadness) and i KNOW i am growing faster than those garden weeds. love love always robyn

    OMG hells. have you been writing or what!!! because this is as concise and compelling as any good writer could make it. you are SO right. it's not this easy for me some of the time, but you are absofuckinglutely right! tsup tsup girlfriend!

    lo, my my, what lovely metaphors and images. i know, i know, i know. you know i know. sometimes memories are tenacious, don't you think? i am lucky i can make new memories in the yard. but you kmow what, lo. the sadness is there for a reason. maybe it's rocket fuel for what comes next.... ♥

    pam, i love how you think. it sounds like you have slid into summer with a peaceful comtemplative (and of course impish imaginative) head and heart. YAY!invite me to maryland and i just might come, shovel in hand! xoxo

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  16. marion, i've been tempted to pull this post because i don't think it's very well written and i don't think my thinking is clear. so thank you for your always kind words and support. gardens and new year's eves: they are my touchstones. sounds like you back as i do. how about we make a pact to nuture ourselves hugely? want to? ♥

    caroline, oh thank god! what a relief to focus on something other than my laments! thank you dear friend!! i do thrive, and you absolutely do too. it may be uncharted territory but we have provisions and maps. :) xoxo

    cs, you know i understand your comment exactly! that's what i mean about the yard: certain places i sat and worked while putting a relationship together and watching it fall apart. i'm getting defiant these days! so what i don't move on as fast as i'd like or i should or i wish i would. so be it. it's who i is... :) i am very glad your summer began in such a lovely way. keep chugging ♥

    dear ms. always blooming pansies: you are going to be surprised to see how you have 'grown'. robin, you rock and that counts for enough. one step at a time. and look who's right beside you on this bittersweet path? why it's me! and annie! and marion! and lo!
    etc etc etc with love

    ah annie, let me hug you right now! how wonderful and wise this comment of yours is. thank you thank you my sweet dear friend. i'm usually climbing too, but i know how it feels to be relaxing on the deck with pam: just letting things be, watching and understanding the stars and the sunsets and the birds and the fireflies. that is the place where everything is clear and fine. xoxo

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  17. P.S.That is one of my very favorite Mary Oliver poems, the last part are words I live by.xoxo

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  18. P.S.S Marion, I am a Pisces too!
    xoxo

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  19. Mary Oliver...another lovely thing that blogging has brought to me. As well as you and your little notes to me. My therapist said grief comes in waves, and to try not to let them knock you down but flow around you and let you move on...

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  20. This is what you're embarrassed about!? I can lament, AND I can embarrass myself before breakfast better on a GOOD day than you can if you do nothing else all day long on a bad day, yet YOU get to hear people model the behavior all the time. Jeez. I guess I'm just gifted.

    You did create a bit of a mystery though about what happened five years ago that makes you feel melancholy in your yard even today. I'll not ask, certainly, but I will say that I am sorry for it.

    Love,
    Me

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  21. I've come back here KJ because this post in particular speaks to my heart. I love the way that you live. That you understand so much. And so you are able to recognise your sadness without being daunted by it. Without being totally dragged back to it. You know how to stay in the present, and that is so important when healing from hurt.

    And I love Mary Oliver! I am quite partial to weeds too. We call then wild flowers ... OK I call them wild flowers. xx Jos

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