Noisy Chickadees

Five chickadees arrived on my deck railing at the same time. I suspect it was Mother with 4 of her brood. Wow. Chickadees have a very different family culture than the one i grew up in.

First of all, they all talk at the same time, all the time. And they are loud! No wonder Mother wanted to kick them out of the noisy nest. In addition to calling each other "Sweetheart," they yell at each other constantly. These are my seeds. Go find your own. Or Get off my branch. I was here first. Or Mom! Then they all fly off together, so they obviously do love each other.

I love individual chickadees, but five at a time was eye-opening.

For those of us who are naturally quiet, for those of us who are conflict-averse, for those of us who give in easily, can we find our chickadee voices? Can we give voice to our authentic selves?

After all, the chickadees do call each other Sweetheart.

Purple Harvest

This morning i harvested only purple things from the garden--purple asparagus and purple pea pods. I cut a several sprigs of lavender. Even though black raspberries call themselves "black," when i crush them between my fingers or my teeth, the result is purple fingers or a purple tongue. I put all my gleanings into my purple (and blue) harvest basket. And, oh yes, i was wearing purple pants and a purple shirt.

The purple asparagus is called Purple Passion. If you're reading this blog, you are as passionate about gardening as i am.

The garden is a place where we can be our authentic selves. We don't have to act in one of our daily roles. We can just "be." And sometimes we  might slip into calm or tranquility. Ahh. Peace at last.

Today: a purple peace.

Night Sky

My friend Mary Beth has a hanging basket of petunias near her back door. The petunias are one of my favorite varieties—Night Sky. White dots scattered on a purple background remind me of a clear starry night. Each flower has its own unique markings, which are caused by the temperature conditions of each flower’s birth. The wider the nighttime and daytime temperatures are, the more white markings.

Each flower is unique. Each snowflake is different from all others. And each of us is unique, depending on various causes and conditions of our birth, childhood, young adulthood, etcetera.

Yet how much time and suffering have I spent trying to shoehorn myself into “normal”? Trying to look and act and even think like “other people.” What a useless waste of energy.

Each Night Sky petunia is unique and authentically itself.

Arborvitae on a Stick

Our little local garden club toured a very local garden last evening. We couldn't figure out the story of the arborvitae, which looked like pointy popsicles on a stick. Sort of fun-looking, actually.

Then the garden owner told us the secret: The deer eat the bottom branches.

Maybe we are like the arborvitae. During our young years, the world eats up our time and energy. Eventually, we can replace busy-ness with the activities and people who are important to us. Then we can fill out with wisdom and grow into our authentic selves.

Our legs may look a bit spindly as time goes on, but our hearts are fuller than ever.

Espalier

Driving on the backroads of Wales, i passed this magnolia tree, espaliered on the front of the house. Normally, a magnolia tree is 15 feet wide, but this espaliered tree has been trained to grow flat against the house, thereby taking up very little space in the already small front yard.

Some of us learn early on to take up very little space in order to be accepted. Women often allow men to do the talking, for instance, thereby confining the female voice to a very narrow role. Reticent people also take up very little space. And i'm sure we all know people who take up more than their share of space--physical space or conversational space.

Those of us who have been trained to take little space or who learned to "give way" to others may have to learn--uncomfortably--to express ourselves in public.

When my father died, 22 years ago, i felt like a big oak in the forest had fallen. Suddenly, there was space for me to breath and grow up toward the light. I had no idea how constrained i had felt previously--living my "supposed to" life.

What is one thing that makes you feel authentic?

Hand-Painted Irises

At a Farmer's Market in Fairbanks, Alaska, I bought a hand-painted t-shirt with irises. The shirt is a bit over-sized, since that was popular in 2003, and it is stained. So it's part of my gardening wardrobe now, and i love wearing it, especially now that irises are blooming.

When we are by ourselves, at home or in the garden, we can be our authentic selves. We don't have to "put on" a self to please others; we don't have to dress to please others; we don't have to speak to please others. I can wear my big, old, stained t-shirt and feel perfectly happy because the irises in the garden don't care what I'm wearing.

Solitude can be a relief, and this is partly why going on retreat nourishes the real you, despite what other people may say or think.

When's your next retreat?

Eating Out--doors

I've harvested wild leeks (a.k.a ramps) three times this past week. Last evening, i went to a potluck and ate ramp dip, ramp pesto, and ramps sauteed with bacon.

The landscape is beginning to feed not only our eyes, but also our taste buds and stomach.

What feeds that amorphous spiritual hunger that we all have?

• Spending time outdoors.
• Spending time in solitude (even if it's only in the bathroom.)
• Meditation or prayer.

In Nature, we can be our authentic selves. We don't have to pretend anything or satisfy anyone else.

Take a mindful walk today--in your garden, in the woods, or around the block. You never can tell what you might find to eat out there.*

*For instance, dandelions, violets, morels, sheep sorrel, lambs quarters

Photos from theforagerpress.com