The Garden In You©

Wobbling to the Sun

2012-01-13T17:12:00.000-08:00

We're wobbling towards the Sun. Well, actually, the Earth is wobbling and we're just on for the ride, wobbling to our own personal suns. It's that perpetual wobbling of the rock we live on that makes the seasons flow from year to year to year. And make no mistake, we are a part of that eternal, sometimes infernal, process. There was a time, not so long ago in the history of humanity, that we did not understand the earth's rotation, from west to east or the way that it moves back and forth, from north to south. So we created gods and goddesses, titans and sprites, all sorts of divine and unsee-able beings upon whose shoulders rested the responsibility for shorter days and longer nights, colder seasons and warmer times. Now we know that the planet is on a predictable and regular path, it's motion is never-ending and that is why on January 13th, a Friday, I can say with confidence, "Today is lighter than yesterday and spring is waiting to be sprung." I look at the crab apple tree in front of the house, bare and gnarly, a stark reminder that we are, in fact, in the winter time. However! Those dead-appearing limbs and branches are loaded with the life that will, in no short time, burst forth into visions of pink flowers - not only on this tree, but on the tree in the backyard and on the trees in virtually every yard on the street. All over the city, there are thousands of crab apple trees, dreaming of their springtime, our springtime, the springtime that always comes. That's the promise, that's the security of nature. It works towards creation and growth and even when it appears to be in opposition, it is merely the natural way and rhythm. It is the Dao, it is the Universe, it is Allah, it is God. We can learn to accept that which is natural outside the front door and, more importantly, we can and must learn to accept that which is natural within us, even our internal, emotional, intellectual and psychological winters. They are hard. Hard as hell. They suck. Big time. Sigh. How sad that we human beings, so tender and beautiful, must endure dark nights and chilly days. It should work better but it doesn't and that's the way it plays. Try to remember that when the earth wobbles, that wobbling keeps the entire system in sync. The climates, the rainfalls, the winds and all of the weather, depend on the wobble. So too with our wobbling back and forth, from despair to giddiness and all the seasons in between. Understand the Earth and understand yourself. When the understanding comes, then you can work the earth and work your self. The crops you reap will be heavy in yield and the gardens you create will be always full of the light and happiness within you.

Practical Tip - Start thinking. Think about what you have in your space and dream about what you want. The growing season is coming and if you know what you want to do and research how to do it, you can optimize the time you have. This way, you will have confidence and control, mistakes can be minimized and opportunities can be maximized. Think ahead and get ready.

Winter Comes To The Garden

2011-11-20T11:00:00.001-08:00

I was born in the winter and expect to die in the same season. Sometimes, always, it's wisest to accept the chill and let winter come. The wonderful thing about the garden is that it is an art form that has no permanence. We have remainders of Egyptian, Roman and Medieval civilization in the monuments and stone works that survived the ages, but we have no gardens left from those peoples. There is something to be said for artwork that is ephemeral, that exists in a moment, then is gone forever, a memory only to those who experienced it in it's time. When those people leave the earth, their memories vanish, too, and what was no longer will be. Such is the life of most of us. Our experiences and memories will cease to exist and we will vanish like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. I embrace that concept. As a person who wanted all my life to achieve some kind of memorable success, something to leave behind so that I will not be forgotten, it is an important step for me to realize that I am an ephemeral garden and my existence will be forgotten and lost to eternity. Going to the ER when the pulmonary embolism hit my lungs was a mistake. I had a chance to blow away and failed to take it. After coming home from the hospital, I had a few, brief moments in which I was able to comprehend what could have happened, had I allowed nature to take its course, but I never felt a sense of gratitude for being alive. What has happened since is simply a confirmation that sometimes life should end and we should never stand in the path of the inevitable. The Grim Reaper came knocking and I shut the door. Now the door is open and an invitation has been sent, asking him to return as soon as he can. Winter comes. Accept it and be joyous in the release and the withdrawal from existence. There is nothing to be afraid of.

The Garden In My Lungs

2011-11-11T09:39:00.001-08:00

I could be dead today - I could be an empty space. One week ago I had a spontaneous acute pulmonary embolism. Blood clots in my lungs. Thinking I could ride out the event, not knowing what was happening inside my body, I wanted to just sleep and get better. Had I still been in California, I would have died alone in my apartment. Destiny had other plans and placed me in my Mother's home when it happened. She made me go to ER. She saved my life. I'm home now and faring well. 11/11/11 is a birthday now. At no point in the entire time in the hospital did I fall to fear. I just enjoyed what was there in the present, no matter the environment or the diagnosis. I was blessed to be in the hospital in which I was born, in which my father and grandmother and sister had lain in wait for the Grim Reaper. But I didn't see him there. Good thing, because my favorite Halloween costume is the Glam Reaper and I would have had to tell him to glitz it up a bit. I was blessed to be in the embrace of kindness from so many nurses, aides, doctors, technicians, administrators and others, whose names I wish I had written down so that I could remember them better. I floated on clouds of tender loving care through a perilous valley. I am alive. I could not be alive. Something invaded my garden, like a medieval dragon, blackening flowers and incinerating virgins. It came out of nowhere and has no certain justification. It was, clinically, an Unprovoked Bi-Lateral Pulmonary Embolism. Unprovoked. Honest, I never saw those blood clots before in my life. I don't even know their names. I got lung bashed by a bunch of thugs. So where's the lesson? Where's the learning? The wisdom pearls that hang in strands around my neck? I'm not quite sure yet - the sensation is different, the experience is yet to be entered into the register and the outcome is yet to be realized. Sometimes you just have to sit down and take a breath, take it in, take the time and take the life. That's all there is.

Practical Tip - Listen to your Mother.

Failure

2011-10-28T12:11:00.000-07:00

In the garden, there is no such thing as failure. Yes, plants die. Sometimes it's a matter of planting something in the wrong place, where the sun is too bright or too dark. Sometimes it's placement in relationship to other species that may have invasive root systems or different water consumption patterns. Sometimes, it's just genetic - out of a six-pack of seedlings, one may just be inherently weaker than the rest. Whatever the cause, we must never encounter the loss as a sign of failure. It is simply an event that was unexpected, un-hoped for and unwanted. Such is life. We must look at the garden as a whole process and not at the individual events that occur in it. In other words, see the forest, not the trees. Easily said but harder to follow. We are taught from infancy on, to judge and categorize our experiences. This has a dual outcome - yes, judgement helps us clarify and distinguish and apply values and we do need to separate out that which is positive and that which is negative. We learn from this process and from learning we grow and acquire wisdom. Without wisdom we are doomed to constant repetition and "failure". However, in that process of valuation, the other outcome can be oppressive and never-ending judgement, a form of judgement that teaches us that we are losers and not worthy of the abundance that lies within our souls. The garden does not have a place for losers. It is a place of regenerating abundance and instruction as to the truth of life, that none of us fail, we are all on a processional experience of growth. Our modern American society is challenging to the wisdoms of the ages, because our media is constantly streaming images of success and failure. The lives of celebrities are dissected and obliterated as mere fodder for 24 hour news cycles. The longevity of human experience is never examined and instead, we get sound clips and photo-ops, all of which are designed to fill air time, so that advertisers can sell their products and the networks can make a profit. We succumb to these visions of success and failure and turn that vision upon our own lives. No wonder we become depressed and ambivalent, instead of joyous and passionate about our endeavors. When I first got my AIDS and cancer diagnoses, I had no health insurance and there were no anti-retrovirals. My first treatment was 6 months of radiation. It worked at first, then the cancer re-appeared. I then got myself into an experimental laser treatment in Denver. It was painful and never worked. Then I found another drug trial in Los Angeles and tried it out. No success there. Then I tried chemo and it helped a great deal. Then the first anti-retrovirals appeared and some were good and others were terrible. Through the whole process, which spanned several years. I never saw failure, just unexpected results that led me to another stab at a different solution. And 15 years later, here I am, trying to make another leap in life. So when your garden isn't going quite the way you want it to go, learn the lesson if there is one and try again. Forget about judgement and embrace the joy of the challenge. It's the only way to become a master of the garden and of your life.

Between Two Bridges

2011-10-22T16:08:00.000-07:00

I was over at Adams Park today, a "pocket park" just two blocks from home. It is one of several parks that the City of Casper established along Garden Creek, which runs from the mountain to the North Platte River. We played here constantly as kids and today I was there for chanting and reading. Also, some wondering and dreaming. It's a tough weekend, in that I made a small step towards a big move on Friday afternoon and am waiting to hear the results. Waiting, waiting, waiting. One of the hardest things I have ever done in life is waiting to see what will happen. Given my impatient nature, I have often tripped myself up during the excruciating period of time in which an effort has been made and time seems to expand beyond my comprehension. In the past, this is the time in which my faith has collapsed and my self-confidence has imploded. It is so easy to be faithful when one is busy and the mind is fully engaged in the here-and-now. Idle minds are, indeed, the devil's workshop, for those of us who tend to wander towards the shadows when we should be relaxing and enjoying the space between bridges. The garden teaches us a valuable lesson in respect to this. Plant a seed in the ground. Water it. Feed it. Then sit there and look at the place under which we know the seed exists. I can sit there for hours, days, weeks, fretting over whether or not a sliver of green will emerge from the soil. This is where trust and faith in the unknown must take place. We humans are capable of everything, yet not responsible for everything that happens. At some point in time, we all need to step back, after having invested our blood, sweat and manure into our work. Step back, take pride in the fact that we have planted something and recognize that the act of planting is an act to take pride in. Then step away and let nature take it's course. In all likely-hood, the seed will sprout, if we have paid attention to the soil condition, the position of the sun and any other details that will produce growth. Fretting over that which we cannot control is a habit and a bad habit at best. It is a habit that must be encountered, recognized and dealt with, for if it continues without abatement, it will ruin the enjoyment of life. Let your garden grow. have faith in your work, have faith in nature and let it be. For me, I will do my best to relax my mind, revel in my talent and creative nature and look forward to the future, without collapsing under the weight of anticipation. It's a challenge, but better to be challenged by expectation than to be challenged by nothing at all. I've stepped out of my boundaries, I've planted the seed and now I can rest, waiting for my harvest.

Practical Tip - Save those seeds! It's autumn now and a lot of the annuals have gone to seed. Don't pull the plants out and throw them away. Shake those seed heads, pull the seeds out, do what you have to according to the plant and drop the seeds into an envelope, write the plant name on it, seal it and put it into the fridge. Come next spring, use those seeds instead of buying new packs. Not only will you save money, but you will get enormous satisfaction knowing that the "dead" annuals from last summer are living again in the plants of next summer!

The Great Death Robbery

2011-09-27T10:12:00.000-07:00

Well, here's a thought - I watched "Man On A Wire" last night, the story of Philippe Petit's high-wire walk between the two World Trade Center towers in 1974. At one point, he describes his passion as a way of robbing Death. It struck a chord in me and here is that chord - not all of us are like Petit, in fact, none of us are. Thank God. While his feat was marvelous and admirable, he could also be described as obsessive and a bit self-absorbed, but then, to walk on a wire 1,000 feet above the earth requires self-absorption. But we have something in common with him, if we look deep inside. We can all be robbers of Death. We can all deny the Grim Reaper his right to take away life and joy and peace of mind. In any way we can, let's do it. When you wake up in the morning, make it a defiance of death. Instead of fearing the day, take a moment to ask this question - "What will this day bring?" See the morning light. Listen to the morning birds, one of my favorite sounds in life. Get out of bed, acknowledge you might be feeling a bit grumpy, but who isn't when we first wake up? I have two parakeets and even they take a while to get happy in the morning. Then, instead of turning on the television or the laptop, get your cup of coffee, if you are into caffeine like I am and go out into the garden. Be still and look and listen. Notice the light reflecting through the leaves of the plants. It really is amazing how bright that light can be. I am on the patio in my Mother's back yard right now and there is a big container of marigolds bathing in the sunlight - from yellow to orange in a sea of green, the light is blazing. This is life. This is the robbery of Death. Absorb it and be an accomplice, be a conspirator. Conspire with your garden to steal from Death it's measly power. If a plant dies, uproot it, turn it into mulch, bury it into the earth and use it to give life to another plant. Learn that though there is decay, there is never Death, it is an illusion. Rob it of its power and take pride in your own power. Then be like Robin Hood and give some of the loot to the poor. Smile, laugh and show the world our bounty.

Practical Tip - I am a bit of a nut when it comes to removing dead leaves from my garden or even from containers. Some may call me lazy and yes, I am, in certain ways. However, I allow some leaves to remain on the soil, decaying and releasing their nutrients to the living plants around them. When I see perfectly clean planting beds, I see a potentially sterile environment. When you see "dead" leaves around a plant, don't see it as imperfection, but rather a process in which life is regenerating itself naturally. Plus, when we keep raking up leaves and putting them in the green recycle bins that must be picked up by petroleum burning vehicles to be transported to recycling centers, we are just adding to the consumption of energy and adding to global warming.

Stabilization

2011-09-09T08:56:00.000-07:00

Well, one of my practical tips regarding stabilizing slopes is now leading to a metaphor about stabilizing life. So sit back while I ramble - there is a televangelist named Joyce Meyers and I like her. I don't like many of her ilk, but despite the fact that I once heard her ranting about the homosexuals, I like her. She blends common sense psychological support with scripture and has been through the ringer herself. Any way, the other night, I caught a few minutes of her sermon on Stability - she basically said that no matter how much Ability we may have, without Stability, we can't achieve our dreams. That she had been blessed by God, who had brought her to a place of Stability, so that she could finally live the dream. It was here that Divine Truth was revealed to me - my escape from Palm Springs was not a loss or a retreat, but rather, a blessing. I have been brought, by Divine Will and by my own will, to the most stable place I know, the home I grew up in. As I write this, I am in my new office in the basement, the room that we all had when we were teenagers, the room with the most privacy and quiet. I look out the narrow window and see the plants from ground level and the sky above. I once thought that it felt like standing in my grave, at a bleaker time of life, but now I see that I am standing on my planting bed. From here I will live my dream. So when you are in turmoil, find your planting bed. Find a specific place that you can rely on. A place that does not change, so that your thoughts and soul and feelings can settle into the ground, rest and root. Without that, you can plant all the seeds you want, but they will be disturbed and displaced by floods and winds and tremors and instability. Stabilize, Stabilize, Stabilize. Ask for it, seek it, demand it, pray for it. In Stability and quietness, the word will come and you will know it when you hear it. Then follow your intuition, the voice of God within you and pop above the surface of the ground, grow, leaf, germinate and flower the world.

Practical Tip - When it comes to stabilizing newly planted trees, it is best after a period of time, to remove any stakes or lines that have kept the tree in position. The tree must learn to stabilize itself and will do so if it is allowed to be free.

In Memorian Again

2011-09-03T09:02:00.000-07:00

I have been meaning to make this post for a long time, but am now ready to write about Monte Sweazey. Monte lived in Unit #1, in the complex that I lived in, in Palm Springs. He was in his 70's and dueling cancer for the second time. Unfortunately, cancer was winning this time around. His primary caregiver lived in Unit #3. I will call him Lost, because I had much trouble with him. He was the manager and also a user, dealer and cooker of Meth, the evil drug of destruction. At a certain point, Lost became obsessed with me in a paranoid way and tried to destroy my life. 7 months of constant battle ensued, eventually Lost lost his job and was evicted. Monte was an innocent bystander and was sadly caught in the crossfire. I did not know him at all, but after Lost was gone, I helped as well as I could when Monte called for it. I found out that when Monte came to Palm Springs, he came as a landscape designer! Small coincidence? I think not. He had a wood carving ion his place that he had done in college. I had a wood carving in my place that I had done in college. Hmmmmm. The person who owned the complex did not want Monte to live there anymore, because she had given in to her own paranoia and lacking any ethical scruples, she wanted to evict him, despite the fact that he was confined to a hospital bed in his living room, was blind in one eye and was emaciated from weight loss. On New Year's Eve of 2011, she asked me to give him his eviction notice. NO WAY. I saw a lonely man with no family left, dying in an empty apartment. I went in to see him on January 2 and thought he had died, but he finally took a breath in his sleep. I looked at his environs, so cold and in disarray. I broke down in tears. I remembered Rosa, the little old lady in Hollywood. I remembered the lesson, so I went to Vons, found a gorgeous Spathaphyllum (Peace Lily) and brought it back to Monte. He was awake when I came in and a hospice worker was with him. When I showed him his new Peace Lily, his eyes lit up and he directed me to where he wanted it placed. In that moment, I decided to tell him my own story, in regards to AIDS, cancer, the garden and my career. With his one good eye, he looked at me hard, as if he was looking into my soul. For the first time, he knew who I am. He understood the order of nature and the peace we can find there. Three days later he was taken to the hospital. I saw him there and then once more, when he was in hospice, dying. I brought him the Peace Lily and set it on his table. He was sleeping so I left him there with his bit of nature. He died on January 15. I set a memorial outside his apartment, using his wood sculpture. I have not always done the best things in my life but I am proud that I did something right with Monte. I learned the lesson that Rosa taught me and gave Monte a bit of the garden. I hope he knows.

Practical Tip - NEVER put rocks or pottery shards in the bottom of a pot to help with drainage. It does not work and makes the drainage worse. A piece of mesh fabric or screen will do, if you want to prevent the potting soil from falling through the hole. Or just put a plate under the pot with feet or stones holding the pot off the plate.

Practical Tips

2011-08-26T12:44:00.000-07:00

Enough with all the philosophy!! In the future, my blogs with also contain some helpful and practical tips for the garden. I will be concentrating on sustainability, "green" practices and such. If you have anything to contribute, please feel free to comment.

TIP #1 - BIO-ENGINEERING

The next time you need to stabilize a slope, instead of buying expensive stone blocks or other pre-fabricated systems, use materials you already have. You can use fallen branches or cut branches that need to be removed from a tree. Attach them horizontally to the slope with re-bar or stakes and fill in with gravel and soil. Plant into the area above the branch with shrubs or ground cover. The branch will disappear into the earth and provide a sustainable stabilization to the slope.

Back to the Starting Place

2011-08-25T19:41:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm back where it started - the house where styrofoam cups sat on the window sill. To make a long story short, the desert was too hot - in fact, hellish. It wasn't the temperature that wilted my fragile dreams, it was the climate. The Betty Ford Center is in the right locale - so many addicts in the Coachella Valley. Whether it is drugs, alcohol, gambling or sex, I met too many sad souls who had given into their fears and negativity, and sad to say, it rubbed off on me. Plus, the people I rented my little studio from, turned out to be deceivers in extremis. So I decided to quit the effort and the only good and prudent choice was to return to Casper. Now there is much here that I am grateful for, but there is a lot that is not so positive. However, it is up to me to direct my thoughts in the right direction, so that I can achieve my dreams and live happily. As we all know, family can be a scary fun house mirror and the reflection can be really distorted. So much of our personal negativity flows from previous generations and we have to learn to separate ourselves from the problems our ancestors could not solve and return to our individual source, the creation that is our actual self. Despite my inability to forge the right life in the desert, I survived the heat and did not die. In fact, my first instinct on my return to Casper was to bring beauty into the backyard here, to bring some of my instinctual happiness to the garden that was somewhat neglected and to reflect my soul into the place that I reside in. So wherever you are, in terms of geography or mentality, reflect your beauty out into the physical world. Plant a little, water a little, prune a little. The tiniest effort in your garden, even if it isn't your property, can return your positivity a thousand-fold. At least I hope for that. I intend to survive and flourish, no matter the climate. So shall you.

Time Flies..........

2011-05-01T14:39:00.000-07:00

Wow - I didn't realize how long it has been since I wrote my thoughts. My life in the desert has been fruitful, but life in the desert can be harsh and searing like the noonday sun . However, I survived the first year and am happy to live to tell about it. I am so happy to still be in the garden. In the next days, I will be filling in the blanks - please come back for more.

Spring Ahead

2010-03-21T18:36:00.000-07:00

Forgive me if I ramble, but I do that a lot in my life. Ramble here, ramble there. Much has occurred since my last post, since the day that Rosa died. In fact, as I begin this, on the first full day of spring, I realize that Rosa has played a part in all that has occurred. Essentially, she may have blessed me after she moved her garden from that tiny balcony over Hollywood Boulevard to a balcony over the world. I have also moved. from my beloved home on a hillside in Los Angeles, to a beloved home at the base of Mount San Jacinto in Palm Springs. Say what? How did that happen? Long story short, my former landlord worked for AIG. So after being laid off and unable to find work in his own field, he made the difficult choice to sell his property, the property upon which I had crated my garden for 8 spectacular years. Years in which I grew and suffered and grieved and recovered and studied and learned and played and slept. When I heard the news, I grieved again. How could I ever find a place better than where I had lived for so long? Worse yet, how could I find a place that equalled it? A place with a benevolent landlord, a spacious view, a faithful and loving dog named Patty and all the nooks and crannies that everything I owned seemed to belong in? What would I do? Where would I go? How could I afford it, financially and emotionally? In my bleakest hours, as I came to think that I would lose it all, that I would end up living in the back of my truck, I kept my faith, even if it was just a sliver. I searched and searched for someplace to land, a safe harbor to continue the journey and find my treasures. Then with only a few days left, I cast my fate to the winds, did a quick search on the web with my limited budget as the only key word and in a second, I found my home. One image appeared, the front of a bungalow complex in Palm Springs. I had always thought that someday, after I had achieved my goals, I would like to live here. So I was ready and prepared. I drove down two days later, walked in the front gate, felt the peaceful energy, looked up at the sun-drenched slopes of the great mountain, met my sweet manager, spoke with my new landlady's amazing mother, negotiated the lease and one week later, I am here. The verdict, the moral of the story? The garden in you is in you, not in any particular place on the earth. The garden is movable. Be prepared to make the move, for it may come without warning, but have faith that wherever you may go, there is a place to settle your roots, to water your flowers and rest your feet. Instead of downgrading my previous life, I upgraded to a place where peace reigns and all is well. Rosa took care of me. My garden is greater for the move and my life has changed to the live that I had envisioned for so long.
So far away from where we were and closer yet to where we will be. The garden grows inside and out.

In Memoriam

2009-07-23T19:04:00.000-07:00

For the past few months, I have been walking to the gym every day. It's 5.7 miles, round trip, down Hollywood Boulevard. At Hollywood and Edgemont, there is a nightclub, Club Guatelindo, with a big parking lot fronting the street. Next to the parking lot is a two story building with a store front clinic on the first floor and a row of small apartments on the second story, running back towards the nightclub. The apartments are very dilapidated looking and a balcony joins them all together. Every day, on my journey to health and fitness, I would see a very old woman sitting on the balcony, her arms resting on the railing as she surveyed the goings-on of the boulevard. She was very, very old, her face like a wrinkled dried apple. Her skin was brown - she could have been Mexican or Indian or Native American. I always wondered as I passed her, "Who is she? What is her life? Is she lonely? Is she happy? Is she all there?" Then one day, I looked up and realized she was looking at me. I thought that I should wave, since after all, she was a part of my daily life. Before I could execute the thought, she waved to me. I waved back and as I continued my walk, I was filled with pure Joy. She was aware, she was alive, she recognized me and I recognized her. I felt - not alone. I felt blessed and united with this stranger. Two solitary beings united as one. So every day we repeated the little ritual. Then one day, I thought that I would wave first. I did and she waved back, then blew me a kiss. I returned the gesture and again, Joy became my walking companion. I decided that one day, I would bring her a flowering plant, something she could take care of and love, so that she could experience the garden in herself. I told the story to a friend and she encouraged me to make the move. So the next day, a very hot day, I looked up on my walk and she was not there. Day after day, I have looked for her. Never there. Perhaps in the heat, she was inside, enjoying the air-conditioning? Today, on my walk, I looked up and she was not there. On the way back, I looked back over my shoulder and saw a man attaching a bouquet of white lilies to the balcony railng. I went over and asked him where the old lady was, if she was there. He said, "She went home to her daughter's house and died the day before, July 22." I said, "Oh....we waved to each other every day." He said, "Everybody loved her. She lived here for more than 20 years and blew kisses to people on the street." I thanked him and went home. Later, I brought some roses from my garden and left them below the balcony with a note to her daughter about how happy her mother had made me. I felt so sad and alone. And angry at God for taking her from me. I also realized that when one wants to express love for another, do it now. Do not wait. They may be gone tomorrow. At least we had both expressed the gardens within our hearts with simple gestures of recognition and unification. i know now that her garden was green and flowering and full of life. Now she is in the Garden of Eden and she is everywhere in the hearts of all of us mortal souls that she blew kisses to. I do not know her name, I call her Rosa, so "Rosa - Thank you. Thank you for seeing me and recognising me and blowing me kisses of love. I will never forget you." ROSA - JANUARY 14, 1918 - JULY 22, 2009 - REST IN PEACE

The Artist In You

2009-07-19T13:59:00.000-07:00

A very long time ago, before I discovered gardens and long before I discovered my self, I read a book called Sassafras, Indigo & Cypress by Ntozake Shange. I remember nothing about the story or characters, but I remember this - Sassafras is a black woman with an abusive lover, an artist who teaches her one valuable lesson, "Make every moment in life an artistic one.". I never forgot that quote and have been striving for every moment to make every moment an artistic one. What does that mean? I believe it means being always aware of what is going on, what one is doing and how one is doing it., It means that when you tie a knot, you feel the twine, you calculate the length, you tie it so that it is the perfect tautness and the shape is an expression of symmetry and power. It means that when you cook a meal, you are aware of how your body moves in the kitchen, of how you hold the vegetables as you cut them, you never make a mess and you always use every thing you can with frugality and care. It means that you treat the people in your life with the same amount of awareness and sensitivity, that every exchange is alive and nourishing and nothing is taken for granted. It is how the Japanese conduct themselves in every moment, how the Italians see their world, how the Balinese envision their every waking moment. The garden is a perfect place to begin the process. When you are clearing debris, be aware of every dry branch and dead leaf. It is not just debris, it is an expression of the living process of decay and death. When you are positioning plants, be aware of the relationships that you create, in color and form and mass. Observe textures and scents, heights and widths, observe everything that is happening around you - the light, the air, the shadows, the sounds, the feelings within your heart and the thoughts within your mind. Be becoming an artist in the garden, we become more and more sensitive to the rhythms and nuances of life. We settle into the moment that meditation is meant for and we merge with God. We elevate ourselves from worry and fear and achieve Nirvana. I can hear my breathing now, I can feel my power and I can believe in something greater than my own self. That is why we must find the artist in ourselves and in our gardens. To elevate and enlighten ourselves and to bring that into the world for the better of all around us. Take your artist and your garden to the world.

Perfection

2009-04-14T11:40:00.001-07:00

Ain't no such thing as perfection. No, sir. No, ma'am. No perfection here. Not on this earth.

Last week I achieved perfection in my little garden. I moved two sculptural pieces - a red plastic pony and a red wooden carving. Note the word in common - red. More on that, on another day. I had wanted to make these moves, these gestures for some time. I had thought and pondered the implications and nuances of this re-arrangement, this re-adjustment, this re-assignment of positions. In the garden it's a bit like playing chess, though I have never played chess and could very well have my head up my ass. It's the fluidity of the thing, the ever-changing, ever-moving flow from one physical appearance to another. The changes that we make in the physical disposition of the components of the garden - the plants, the rocks, the ornamentations, the water features, the furnishings, all of the objects that shape the place - these changes also affect our mental disposition, thus affecting our psychological, emotional, spiritual and finally, our own physical disposition. We change as our garden changes and the observation of that change is well worth making. The placing of consciousness within the garden, is the placement that is crucial in order for us to enhance our understanding of the events taking place around us and within us. Again, and not to beat a dead pansy, but we find ourselves in the garden and the garden within ourselves. One reflects and amplifies the other.
Back to perfection. Having re-placed the pony and the carving to new locations, locations that I had feared unsuitable and bound to fail; having made adjustment after adjustment in how the two pieces were hung; having done it again and again, into the night (I highly recommend night gardening), I laid back in my hammock. At the center point of my perspective, I could se that I had achieved perfection. My garden worked completely. Everything was in its proper place and the new arrangement created quite a lovely song. I dared to re-think and re-order and had brought myself to a better place. A perfect place. A garden of Eden. Nirvana. Bliss. Ecsatcy.

One week later, my landlord had the background to my garden removed, to make room for expansion of his house. The night before I could not sleep, worried about what was going to happen to my perfect place. How would it look, how could I cope with the change? How could God take away what I had perfected? Curses! So the gardeners came and took away the background to my world, hacking away all day, but respectful to my garden. After they left, I went outside to see the ruination. This is what I saw - a new open space, empty and full of potential. Something to be worked, something to be made perfect. I learned, again, that perfection is a fleeting thing and when it flies, say good-bye and get ready to create again. My garden has taught me, again and again, to let go of what was and grasp what can be. The garden is a work of art that ever changes and that is perfection.

Money

2009-04-10T19:44:00.001-07:00

Dirty, dirty money. Filthy, dirty money.

Pessimists call it a depression. Optimists call it the Great Depression! It's a great line but it isn't mine, I must confess and I don't remember where I read it. Most likely it comes from Mr. Boffo. These are incrediblt tough times when it comes to money. For me and for almost everyone I know. We live in a world that is complex and difficult to grasp. In a sense, we are still hunters and gatherers, but berries and nuts and small animals have been replaced by dollars and cents. The smartest, or maybe the wiliest of us, have managed to rig the sytem so that they amass immense volumes of berries and nuts and we borrow from them, promising to pay them back at some future time. So where are the berries? How did they disappear? Where did all the food go?

I do not understand the sytem and never have - I'm a simple man with simple thoughts and usury does not compute. However, gardens do. Here is your opportunity to learn frugality in the garden and in your life. I remember Sophia Loren talking about her life after WWII - she lived with her mother and grandmother and they had little or no money. Her hrandmother, however, taught her how to cook with almost nothing. She could take the simplest ingredients, whatever she had and create a meal that was tasty and complete. She knew how to make the best of what she had. So in our gardens, in this post-economic war period, let's learn to make the best of what we have. You don't have to go to an expensive nursery to find your plant materials. Go to your neighbors and ask if you can take a snip of plants that you like and offer them the return favor. Succulents are great for this. You can easily take a snip off of almost any succulent and stick it in the ground. Water it and it will make roots and grow. The same can be done with geraniums and a lot of other plants. Instead of thowing out leaves and debris, leave it on the ground, smoosh it into the soil and your plants will feed themselves with their own decaying parts. Try to use plants that consume less water and save your water bill as well as the planet. Be frugal in your garden and be frugal in your life. While living and studying in Itakly two years ago, I observed how frugal the Italians are in their lives. And yet, their lives are rich, far beyond the average American's life. It's a lesson we all can learn - that buying and having more than your neighboe means nothing at the end. When we live like our ancient, hunting and gathering ancestors, making the best of what we have, we achieve real fulfillment and happiness. Less is more and more is less.

The Lizard In The Fountain

2009-04-05T12:32:00.001-07:00

It is an exquisite Sunday morning - the best time of any week, to be alive. I stepped out of my door, immediately sensing the presence of something different. I looked to the fountain that greets my guests and myself upon arrival and departure. The fountain is hand built from a high -glazed pot, lined with low-grade jade stones and little trinkets from my past - three irredescent marbles that Mindy gave me in college, a polished piece of jadite that I obtained in Thermopolis with my Mother and Aunt Mary, a small, squarish piece of blue polished glass that I swiped from the Oz Garden, and pieces of white quartz, from the days when I collected crystals. There amid memories in stone, a brown lizard was taking a sip. We both froze upon recognition, surmizing the situation, surprised and wary. Back into my office I dashed, to seize my camera. He moved a bit when I steppped back onto the porch. So I held still, so as not to provoke his flight. I think of it as a he, though it could be a she. My camera poised in front of me, focused to shoot, I waited. He waited. Neither moved or trembled. I snapped picture after picture, never moving, as he moved back towards the water, not hearing my camera and having forgotten my presence. I was just another tree by now. He sipped, he moved his head towards the plants and flicked his tongue out to have a little bug nosh. Bye, bye bug. I thought of the crow that I had seen on the fence the day before and how happy the crow would be to have a little lizard nosh. A small white plane flew high overhead and I thought of the people on that plane, looking for bugs to fill their belly, in that abstracted human way of living and surviving on this Earth. We are all the same - the lizard, the bugs,the crow, the people. We are all connected by simply being alive and living. That's what you can learn in the garden. That everything we are and everything that we do is the same process as the lizard's process of life. There is great assurance in that. There is great forgiveness in that. There is great strength in that. If a lizard is not guilty for living, why should we be? I've never seen a bitter hummingbird or an angry butterfly. I've never seen a lizard lost in the throws of depressive musings or a blue jay pissed off. Wait, I have seen a blue jay pissed off. That's their nature when they're protecting their territory. A kind of avian road rage. In fact, there is a blue jay that comes by everyday around 4 in the afternoon, to take a sip from the fountain. I imagine the blue jay and the lizard run into each other, now and then.
"Hey guy, how's it going?"
"It's cool, just hangin' and sippin'."
"Cool. Cool. You know, if you were a smaller lizard, I would probably eat you."
"Yeah and if you were an egg, I would probably eat you."
"Right on. Right on. Have a good one, bud. Later."
(Aside) "Fucking crow."
Or so I imagine the conversation would go.

Weeds

2009-03-24T10:09:00.000-07:00

Today, there are weeds in the garden. The exhilaration that I have felt from planting my blog-garden, the joy that I have received from responses to that garden, has given way to something unwanted and unplanned. Doubt, despair and darkness have taken over. To tell the truth, I never use the word "weeds" when I speak of a garden. "Weeds" are just uninvited plants that have wandered into the space that is intended for only desirable plants. We want plants that fulfill our aesthetic agenda, our plan for creating beauty and controlling our environment. "Weeds" assault our safety and the safety of our garden. I have adapted this strategy for weeds that enter my garden - let them grow. They are just as much a part of the natural world that I revere as the plants that I have chosen. They are nomads and gypsies, wandering from place to place, looking for good soil and light and water. They have no desire to destroy. The have no need to ruin our gardens. They just are. In some cases, the "weeds" can supplement our original design, bringing a sense of wildness and relaxation. The wild grass that grows between the cracks in the pavement is soft and green and presents a pastoral quality that my garden might lack. It's springtime now and over the winter, I allowed the grass to grow in, the bright green of its slender blades lending a sweetness that the winter garden lacks. Eventually, however, the grass began to block the beauty of the garden. The form that I had so carefully laid out was distorted, the plants that I had placed so carefully were losing root space and beginning to suffer. So two weeks ago, I started pulling the grass out. Respectfully and without using weed killer, I grasped the clumps of grass close to the base and pulled them out, root systems and all. It is cathartic pulling "weeds", a way of cleaning the garden, inside and out. As the clumps of formerly beautiful grass came out, so did my fears of the future and regrets of the past. Locked in the present of tending my garden, I freed myself of all that blocked my creative spark. Now, my garden has returned to order and design. So too will my thoughts and feelings, as I allow the negativity of my internal "weeds" to exist for a little while. Long enough for me to appreciate the humanity of those "weeds", the necessity of their presence and the naturalness of their existence. We tend to fight our internal "weeds" too much, by either denying their existence, to the point of self-delusion and self-destruction or by using our own weed-killers, such as alcohol or drugs, both legal and illegal. I have seen in myself and others, an inability to accept the fact that we are not perfection, we are human. We feel anger, sadness, frustration and then hate ourselves for having those feelings. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy of loss and sorrow. The more we fight, the more we lose. So tomorrow, I will pull my "weeds" out, from the base, root systems and all, and return to the order I need to progress through my life, growing gardens and giving them to the world. Bless the weeds, then get the hell rid of them!

Styrofoam Cups in a Window

2009-03-23T09:01:00.000-07:00

My life began in 200 Styrofoam cups in the picture window of my parent's home in Wyoming. The year was 1995. I had returned to Wyoming the previous year, after I found out that the purple growths on my left leg were Kaposi's Sarcoma, an AIDS related cancer. I did not know that I had been infected by HIV until the aggressive lesions appeared. They came in daily and after a year of no restraint, the cancer had made it impossible for me to work any longer and I had to go onto disability, so that I could qualify for Medicare, so that I could begin radiation treatments. My previous life had ended. There was no hope at the time that I could survive. There were no effective HIV medications on the market. My doctor's best prognosis was that I wouldn't have to feel excessive pain when I died. Woo hoo! No pain! No life, but no pain! I knew that traditional medicine was essentially useless for me. I also knew that I wanted to live and live well, despite the disastrous condition of my internal garden. It was riddled with invasive, non-native plants that had taken over and had no respect or regard for the host. I wanted them out, I wanted them gone. So unable to depend upon my physical being, I concentrated on my non-physical being, my spirit and my mind. That I could purify and nurture. At the very least, if I did have to leave this Earth, I would leave free of fear and anger. At the very most, I would stay on this Earth, free of fear and anger. I went holistic and adapted many strategies - exercise, eating well, meditation, laughing, dancing, loving, carrying on as if all was well. And gardening. I come from a family of gardeners and farmers and even miners. People who live on, from and in the Earth. I had a history to draw upon. I went to it, with devotion and dedication. So in April of 1995, when there was still snow on the ground, I started planting in Wyoming, where the growing season extends from June to September. Woohoo! Three months to grow! To get a head start, I bought seed packets and planting mix and Styrofoam cups. I don't remember the exact seeds - probably dianthus, marigold, pansy, black-eyed Susan, snap dragon, annuals all. I planted those little seeds in those little Styrofoam cups and set them on the windowsills of the big picture window of the house that I had been brought home to the day after I was born. The window that I had looked out of as snow cancelled school days, as rain made floods in the street, as the setting sun colored the Wyoming sky golden red. My parents looked on, as bemused and tolerant as they had looked on when a little boy made snowmen in the front yard. Out of those 200 Styrofoam cups, maybe twenty percent of them produced seedlings. I knew nothing about plants and how to grow them. I did not realize that, although the window received Western sunlight, it was cold at night and not the right temperature for growing seeds into living plants. That did not matter. The point was that I believed in the future of those little plants and I believed in my future as well. I made many mistakes from that point on. I planted tomatoes in the shade, I planted fuchsia in full sunlight. I used the wrong soil, I watered too much, I didn't water enough. I knew nothing but I learned. Like any venture in this life, gardening is a process of intention, investigation and invention. We are human beings and we make mistakes, no matter our age or education or station. The point is, do we attempt to reach the heights, fall, get up, figure out why we fell and try to fly again? If you can fail without bitterness and regret, if you can learn without hesitation or pride, if you can stay on the path with insane hope in your heart and sane thought in your head, you will attain your highest, maddest dream. Just learn - learn the right plant for the right soil, in the right light at the right time. It's just like trying to have a relationship with the wrong person - no matter how hard you try to make it work, tomatoes can't grow in the shade. It's like trying to have a career in the wrong business - no matter how hard you try to make it work, fuchsia withers in the heat of a full day of sun. Learning this lesson is easy with plants - they don't have brains or hearts, so if they die, dig them up, chop them up and turn them into mulch. Don't mourn them, don't miss them, use them to make other plants grow. Use your mistakes in the same way. Use all the disasters and catastrophes of your life to fertilize your future. Your garden will be healthy and productive and a source for your happiness and prosperity.

Introduction

2009-03-22T10:22:00.000-07:00

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Greetings Earthlings and welcome to my blog, "The Garden In You". Over the next few centuries, I will be sharing my stories and the stories of others who have found their own Garden of Eden. Eden is that ideal place where all is given and nothing is taken, where everything works and nothing fails. From my own personal experiences, I know that the garden and the landscape, whether in an acre or a clay pot, can bring into an individual's life a sense of power and peace that are invaluable in a world of frailty and strife. The purpose of this blog is to encourage the readers to explore their own garden as a means of exploring their own self and their own life. This exploration can be used to improve any situation that is troubling or debilitating - addiction, loss, sorrow, confusion, anger, fear, poverty, narcissism, division, etcetera, etcetera. I hope that you will find some seed of truth and inspiration that will help you find the strength and confidence to change your own life for the better. I hope that you will bring that strength and confidence to your family and friends. I hope that your family and friends will take that strength and confidence into their communities. I hope that those communities will take that strength and confidence into the world. I also hope that you will share your own garden stories here, so that I will find some truth and inspiration to take into my life. We can all leave our lives of hunting and gathering behind to have the lives of planters and farmers . Now is the time to settle down and tend the garden in you.