That Garden is Gone

I was so happy to see that the garden behind the church has been demolished.

Odd words from a meditative gardener, i know. Here's the back story:
My sweetie belonged to a tiny church that was living on its endowment and failing to make ends meet. Three ladies installed a garden in the back yard of the church. In that garden they planted some beautiful invasives--burning bush, honeysuckle, and purple loosestrife.

I offered to buy the plants from them if they would take them out. "They're invasives!" i said. (I planned to destroy the plants.)
"Oh, we'll keep an eye on them," said one of the church ladies.

The church closed its doors a few years later, due to lack of money. It was bought by the town's historical society, and, by this time, the back yard garden was unkempt and overgrown.

Fortunately, the building became an arts venue for concerts and plays. It received several grants to improve the falling-apart, paint-peeling church. In the process of adding a "green room" behind the stage (the former altar), the garden of invasives was destroyed.

We too think we can live with and control or at least contain various bad habits--drinking, talking about people behind their back, overspending, living on our credit card. But those unskillful actions pollute our minds. It really is better to root out those unwise actions now, while we have the energy and the clear vision to see the long-term effects on our very own karma.

Because, one day, we too, like the church and the garden behind it, will be gone.

Re-Arranging a Flower Bed

I'm beginning to tear apart a flower bed. Hmm. And just as it's looking pretty good--if you think overgrown looks "good."

The slope on the east side of my house faces southeast. The snow melts there first, and it's obviously so close to the house that i want to terrace it to make a kitchen garden.

That's the vision. But first, the taking apart of what is there.

Sometimes, in our lives, we'd like to rearrange our personalities. I have a couple of friends who are pretty good at re-inventing themselves every few years.

Although we may change the outer trappings--our job, our relationships, our house, or our location--our inner habits and character have been hard-wired. Laying down new tracks requires intention, effort, and energy. Part of that effort is mindfulness.

We may have a list of quirks we'd like to weed out of our personalities--anger, stinginess, or impetuousness, for instance--and a list of traits we'd like to transplant--kindness, generosity, or mindfulness.

We begin with simple awareness. "Oh, this is what it's like." And we investigate the effects on ourselves and others. "When i'm irritable...."

I'm taking mindfulness out to the garden now to dig out plants one by one.