8.15.2013

Seasons of Love Don't Die: How the garden is teaching me the beauty of life, death and the in-between

Often, nature teaches us something we forget. I have personally found grace and wisdom and a respite from the existential angst I sometimes feel when I am digging in the dirt. Tending seedlings and flowers and plants and trees, has shown me how seasons work and how every stage in the life and death of an organism is useful and necessary -- one stage of being is not any better than another. It has even shown me just how beautiful each stage can be.

What if we, spiritually speaking, are more like perennial plants than the annuals we seem to think we are? meaning... what if we go through several lives and the energy of what we are, carries forward in a new body. And what if the life we see in front of us today, is really just one of the phases of our being?

We may see ourselves like squash plants, that only live for a season and the purpose of giving gorgeous summer fruit, but in reality, perhaps we are more like a fruit tree, that loses its leaves and hibernates each winter? or asparagus that lasts for years though goes underground each season, only to come through and produce beautiful crisp spears each year. What if what we see in this lifetime is more like a single season of a plant's life or of our life, rather than being its entirety?

If people were plants, the normal, annual plants we all buy each year, we'd start off as a seed with untapped potential. Until water and sun arrive and optimal conditions, there is no known life, or what we view as life. A sprout would be our infancy, a seedling -- just as we start to learn, talk and grow. When plants put out leaves and start to grow taller, that would be adolescence,  preparing us for adulthood. Then we have the potential of fertility begin, that mimics when plants blossom and, if optimal conditions occur, we and plants, start to bear fruit -- or children.

As that plant gives life to its fruit, its leaves and stored energy start to wane a bit. The body is achieving its life purpose to give to the next generation. As the fruit grows, stored energy is transferred into the young, and at some point, the fruit is picked, the plant foliage begins to fade and this is when many people pull up their plants. Yet if the plant and some of its fruit are left alone, this is also when the plant starts to give back to the next generation. As it fades and starts to flower and go to seed, it is giving the gift of future generations. Not only are the seeds of value to people, but birds and butterflies and bees thrive on being around plants going to seed*. To me, this resembles the latter years of humans, when there is still so much wisdom to be given, yet in our culture, that is often forgotten.

As that plant wilts and dies, its foliage appears to melt back into the ground, or is removed and put into compost. Sometimes its seeds are composted as well. The body of that plant nurtures what will become the soil and life energy for the next generation and it lives on in future generations. And sometimes seeds that were left on that plant also sprout. Either way, the DNA and energetic wisdom all are transferred into the next generation.

In nature, it all happen so fast and a plant's season can mimic a condensed version of what happens in our lifetimes. And, as one steps back and sees the amount of seeds in a packet, and watches how many seeds grow or don't, and how much fruit and seed comes from that one seed, you can start to see this small example of a lifetime and how it might play out on a grander scale. 

I believe that just as that energy of plants is carried from generation-to-generation, so too is the energy and wisdom of people. And, if we concentrate on the love energy only that is shared between people, I believe that is the compost that keeps giving to the next and next generation.

Plants don't appear to fret the phases they encounter and to me, it's so easy as a gardener to see how very useful each and every phase of a plant's life is. Yes sprouting seeds are exciting, so are seedlings, the flowering stage and the producing of fruit. Also exciting to me though is watching the bees and bugs so happily interact and collect pollen from the older plants I let go to seed. And taking those well-used stalks and leaves and putting them in the compost to feed next year's crop also feels happy, as does pulling out the baked compost when it's done. 

How is it then, that we as a society worship youth. And how is it we don't see our usefulness throughout the end of our lives and ultimately that the energy we share continues on? We value when we flower, we value when our progeny take their first steps, but we grieve when our elders stop bearing fruit, when they go to seed, and ultimately when they die. 

If we are all indeed part of the larger microcosm and if we can use the example of one season of plants in one garden to illustrate how things work, then we continue to give, we continue to be of use throughout our entire lifetimes, and each and every moment of what we give here and beyond, is still part of the beauty of our existence. I only hope my garden can help bend your mind a bit the way it has bent mine. Surrounded by the beauty and grace of how everything has a purpose and a time, I am always humbled and calmed when I am digging in the dirt.

*Bee on fennel flower ©DK Crawford 2013