It’s been a while. I’m trying to change that. I’m challenging myself to try and write something on this here blog every day….or at least three times a week. I’m worried that every day may result in lots of filler and no meat. So please bear with me as we Wade through the muck and feel free to spit out the bones.
I’ve been reborn as a mother, only this time my children are plants, not people. Yep, you heard me, my garden has consumed a portion of my attention, which has lead me to thinking about nature and nurture. In psychology we relate the two in a versus situation, pitting the two against one another in hopes of finding the one with the greater merit. Why are we the way we are? and other such questions. What I’m proposing is we think of this another way- as a symbiotic relationship feeding itself in a cycle. At least that’s the way I’m seeing it these days.
Let me explain. Nature (my garden) nurtures me in that it feeds my soul and makes me feel useful and accomplished (also know as cultivating a “green thumb”). But what I have been pondering is that I, in turn, nurture nature by watering and weeding, and yes, even planting those tiny seeds in hopes of seeing life emerge from the depths of the soil. There are few things more satisfying than seeing those beauties spring forth out of the ground, unfurling paper thin leaves outstretched towards the sun. And nothing more devastating than having to pluck these same seedlings out of the ground in order to thin the ranks, ensuring the survival of a precious few. Or to see the numerous hungry bugs, slugs, and caterpillars nibble at leaves, or death by disease. Then there are the unplanned for accidents. For example, last night a fugitive on handcuffs divebombed our front garden plot and with the help of the NOPD, destroyed the trellis I just built a few days ago for the snowpeas. It was my small earthquake; a little death that left me feeling like Gollum, pining away for “my precious”. But like this glorious city that I get to wake up to every morning, I will rebuild and this garden will continue to feed me, both physically and spiritually. At least that’s my hope.