Tag: urbanparadise

Categories
Mindfulness Self-care The Spirit

Taking time

Lavender blooms

This morning I discovered that my lavender plant was blooming – just a few little blooms, but blooming nonetheless. Witnessing this filled me with joy: joy of accomplishment, joy of beauty, and joy of the recognition that things take time.

So, why the big deal about two tiny little flowers on a lavender plant? Well, first, lavender is a plant that seems to thrive in all gardens but mine. I’ve been trying to grow lavender since the inception of my current gardens—that would be fourteen years, which feels like a long time.

When I first planted lavender in the ground,  I had visions of the fields of French lavender we see in photos on the web.  Most years I would put a plant in the ground and it would just sit there in the garden; if I was lucky, getting green, if unlucky, turning brown and wasting away. One year, when I was not particularly aware of the lavender, I accidentally dug it out, thinking it was a weed.  So, I was about to give up my dreams of fields of French lavender.

Pretty, but NOT my garden.

Last year I tried growing lavender in a container, where the soil was warmer. I tried it, just, because. To my amazement it survived the summer, but with no blooms. That was ok. I took what I could get.  I brought the pot indoors to my porch over the winter where it was the sole survivor of a suite of plants that couldn’t manage the rather “cool” winter we experienced. I put it back outside in the spring, watered it, fed it, and generally delighted in its mere existence. At one point, I absent-mindedly clipped out some of the lavender leaves for my rosemary potatoes—only to discover I’d clipped the wrong plant!  (I don’t think lavender potatoes are actually a thing).

Just two little bloom on a fourteen year lavender quest.

Then, this morning, after fourteen years of  hitting and missing, I saw two tiny lavender blooms! I nearly fell over. I thought of my mother who loved flowers and reluctantly acknowledged that maybe she was right (yet again) when she suggested I “be patient.”

These days I find patience to be a difficult quality to cultivate. Living in a world that rewards instantaneous results and dismisses patient resolve as “old school” can make me feel like a square peg in a round hole. It can be frustrating to be treated like a relic by simply suggesting  that we “wait and see” what happens.

Brilliant Mind of Edison Lee by John Hambrock, Minneapolis Star Tribune, 6/9/19

But, for a brief moment, the pretty purple flowers reaffirmed my belief in the value to myself and the world of staying present and living in and loving the moment.

In the end, when I look at the lavender,  I understand that we human beings live in a world of which we are a very small piece. And anyone who takes the time to observe this world knows that destruction can happen quickly but growth takes time. And with this observation I can choose to be part of the destruction or part of the growth. For now, I am choosing growth, one tiny bloom at a time.

Anyone who takes the time to observe this world knows that destruction can happen quickly but growth takes time. And with this observation I can choose to be part of the destruction or part of the growth. For now, I am choosing growth, one tiny bloom at a time.

Healing Ground Health Coaching
Categories
Mindfulness Self-care The Spirit

Recognizing the Sacred

My beloved native prairie garden is thriving. I planted this experiment in the most inhospitable of locations a number of years ago. It occupies a strip about 17 feet long by 2 feet deep between my garage and the city alley. That spot takes a beating every winter, facing snow, salt, snow blowers, snow plows, garbage bins, and shovels. In the summer it only receives afternoon sun and contends with vehicles, dogs, and, people who don’t even notice there is a prairie in their midst.

Little Prairie on the Alley.

I became enamored with prairies a number of years ago when I visited Blue Mounds Minnesota State Park in the south western corner of the state while on a pilgrimage to the family South Dakota grave site. I managed to visit in spring when the park’s prairie was in full bloom. I was so mesmerized by the variety and beauty of flora in the prairie that I never even noticed the bison for which the park is known. I couldn’t walk the relatively small prairie without wondering what it must have been like to see the vast mid North American continent before domestic agriculture turned the land into a chemical waste dump.

  • Prairie smoke, one of the original plantings, is an early bloomer.
  • I saw cacti in the Blue Mounds prairie and was inspired.

Leave it alone

I’ve learned that the trick for helping a native prairie thrive (once it’s established) is to just leave it alone. Fertilizer will kill it. So, I try to follow directions and just let it be (although I do some weeding of random invaders, pick up the trash that appears, and add plants periodically). This year, the two newcomer plants (planted last year) are thriving: the sacred prairie sage is glorious and the life-giving milkweed is doing just fine, thank you.

  • This milkweed is a newcomer. I bought it at the Bloomington Garden Club plant sale last year. Once they get established, milkweeds are pretty self-sufficient members of the prairie community.
  • Prairie Sage is considered sacred by the native peoples of this continent. This was the first plant entrusted to the care of humans by the creator.

Once, a few years ago, when I was cleaning out the prairie, a distant neighbor asked me “why bother?” to work on a garden on the alley in a city. I was stunned. All I could sputter out was “because it’s beautiful!” He just glared at me and walked away. I felt sad for that guy.  

The world is an ugly place these days, there is no doubt about it. I cannot ignore the ugliness or suffering will increase astronomically and I will be complicit. At the same time, I cannot ignore the sacred and beautiful or I will lose my sense of purpose. And without purpose, the question, “Why bother?” becomes a valid question with no answer.

I cannot not ignore the sacred and beautiful or I will lose my sense of purpose. And without purpose, the question, “Why bother?” becomes a valid question with no answer.