Changing Places: More Lessons From The Garden (vol. 3)

May, 2020

I’ve decided that it’s time for me to leave the space that I’ve been gardening in for longer than I can recall. My father managed this space for a few decades up until the year before he transitioned. It’s more than an acre with room for more than 50 individual plots. The plots are 100 feet long. One new gardener came in and showed his wife the space, and she said, “You can park an RV on this plot.” It was great while I was there. Originally my father, mother and both sisters all gardened there. Things changed. My older sister transitioned first, then my father. My mother aged out and my sister moved to the next county. She still wanted to come, but that wasn’t sustainable. More things changed. I changed. And gradually, being there no longer brought me joy.

The spring of the Covid-19 outbreak I moved into a space around the corner from my house. It was very different. The first garden was tucked away from the public’s eye. It was very quiet when I worked there in the morning. Easy to be with the plants and my own meditative thoughts, and whatever the Holy Spirit might whisper to me. This new space was right on the corner of a “secondary street”; not quite a main street, but not a side street either. I had to mentally separate from pedestrian and street traffic while being right there with it. A bit of a challenge but I managed. Some pedestrians and drivers at the traffic light throw out compliments or share how just seeing a green garden brings them joy. It’s very interesting how doing my work can positively influence someone else’s day. Bringing tomatoes to life, or keeping the lush, green squash leaves safe from pests brings delight to complete strangers.

The plot size is only 20 feet by 40 feet, so I had to adjust down for my planting. That will take some fine-tuning. I have to adapt my crop choices to what I need and let go of doing anything and everything I want. There’s no room for a variety of bonus items. Sticking to the basics and not being distracted is the way I have to grow now. I said a prayer, asking God to bless the land so that I may bless others. My father taught me the principle of tithing from the garden. Before I eat anything, I am to give away some of the best of my harvest. I choose senior citizens.

The soil is very different, but my husband had compost delivered and we covered my plot with it. The longer you’re married, anniversary gifts take on a unique look. It was the best gift ever. It’s made a huge difference in the richness of the soil, and the plants are thriving much more than last year. Good earth. We need to have that.

I’m always amazed at how life scenarios are reflected in my garden. I’ve had to scale back, cut down on some favorite things I’m used to having, and get laser focused on how to be different in a smaller space. Rethinking work space. How to create in a smaller space. It’s similar to this year’s pandemic adjustments. People are around me, and I have to figure out how to function without them breaching my meditative bubble. But while I’m protecting my meditation space, I am simultaneously paying attention to the seniors in my community.

During our isolation I’ve reached out more because the garden was blessed. My husband and I gave over 250 pounds of tomatoes, peppers and squash to seniors over the age of 80 in the neighborhood and at our respective churches who were stuck at home. Whenever I made my drive-by veggie drops they were always so appreciative, not just for garden fresh vegetables, but that they were not forgotten in the lockdown. They were being seen. I did not realize the depth of their struggle with ageism. Those brief moments have made me spend more time reaching out by phone, checking in with them for no other reason but to hear a smile in their voice or a story about what they’re doing. They have a new place in my world now. When a zucchini grows way too large, I shred it and freeze it. On Christmas eve I bake bread and drop loaves off to those seniors. Some of them live alone, and I just want to make sure they’ll have a treat on Christmas morning.

In my smaller space I saw more, connected more, created more, and shared the harvest with a larger group of people. Letting go of the place I had been in for so long blessed many others. Turning the prism definitely helps to see the more of what is actually already here.

Keywords: Creating positive work cultures; Innovation Productivity; Self-awareness Success; Triple bottom line.