Monday Meditation: The Garden
For this week’s Monday Meditation, I pulled The Garden.
Gardens are places of intention, lots of care, planning, expansion and even more than all of that, patience. Each flower and fruit is carefully chosen, planted, then nurtured; but the same day that we plant the seed is not the same in which we see the fruit, and so patience needs to be exercised here.
If you’ve ever tried to plant or grow anything yourself, then you know very well just how frustrating the process can be, almost as much as it is rewarding. The work needed in your garden is never ending—once you plant the seed, it needs sufficient sunlight, water, and balanced, healthy soil; once the seedlings grow into sprouts, attention needs to be had that pests don’t interfere or destroy them well into fruition. Some seeds don’t ever make it, and still yet some plants get choked by weeds if you’re not careful. At no point can you really let your garden go without supervision.
Life is similar in that aspect.
The soil is your passion, purpose, and intention. The sunlight is your love, and the water is your attention and care. Only things that you love and cherish belong in your garden, and that which does not nurture you or the things you’ve planted should be removed. Similarly, there are things that have been planted before and are now wilting that need reevaluation; do you care enough to nurse them back to health, or should they be weeded out altogether?
Sometimes it’s not the soil, but the plant itself.
And so, The Garden of your life requires tedious work. But it isn’t all work, and we should never forget that (as I sometimes do, being a Capricorn stellium + Virgo rising). When we’ve done the work required to care for our seedlings, and we see them into bearing fruit, it is just as important that we indulge in the reward. Here, we are grateful to reap the benefits of our labor and take time to enjoy the flavors and beauty of our growth.
There is also a time in which we can actually rest in our own garden and allow it to deeply nourish us, and we shouldn’t be too preoccupied with the work that has yet to be done to spoil that.
