My garden has been my site of groundedness this year. 2020 has been challenging for me, as for everyone–painful at times, joyful at others, and an opportunity for transformation and growth in the midst of tremendous loss.
Assailed by instability, in my garden I have felt grounded in body, mind, and spirit. When it wasn’t possible to travel, even short distances, or to visit forests, mountains, rivers, and beaches, I turned to my garden–to its plants, flowers, shrubs, weeds, insects, and to its very soil–for body-minded nourishment. It has felt like a life-affirming home.
Standing with bare feet on the grass as the breeze caressed me, or lying down while looking up at drifting clouds or shinning stars in the sky, I have felt the very Earth sustain me.
These experiences have led me to an epiphany. I have always tended to be more attuned to the elements of fire, water, and wind as influences upon the vital pulse of my life. But this year, the search for balance and stability in my garden has been a lesson on the grounding firmness of earth.
Since I have been traveling again to mountains, beaches, rivers, volcanoes, and forests, I have done it with a clear understanding that my garden has nourished a sense of grounded stability in me.
May that sense continue to sustain me as the end-of-the-year road trips approach. There is a route of natural wonder that I hope to explore by land and water. My goal is to experience mobility, flexibility, adaptability, and groundedness at once. The hours spent in my garden have prepared me for it.