The word Garden, itself, brings solace. It speaks known pleasure from fullness, sensuous dollops of color, flitting birds, busy butterflies & bees, movement in a breeze, perhaps a welcoming pathway or water sound, earth, grounding, thirsty land or moist soil, blossoms and buds, orderly borders and random bursts that beckon, flowers big and small and for many, the fruits of food. High prairie, alpine, plains to rains, lush or lean, a garden soothes.

I opened with the thought of a Garden because it felt so much more lovely and positive than what else dominates our psyche right now: Pandemic’s mysterious, unknown, world-turned-upside-down, who has it who doesn’t, division, die or live,  power over us—Covid.

“Go to Your Room,” said Mom Nature to us all. “And don’t come out until you think about what you’ve done!” Staying Away has made us think.  And whoa, it is not fun to realize what large scale/small scale not so nice things we humans have been accepting as normal life. Many, even still, refuse to sit in the corner and see it.

We have all been a little too full of ourselves, with our stress and our desires, to notice simple ease.

Grow. Love. Nurture. Hope. Evolve. Change. Nourish. Cherish. Die. Start Over. Bloom. Don’t bloom. Bugs. Fertilize. Pollinate. Eat. Inspire. Be authentic. Be pretty. Be yourself. Flop over. Grow straight. Grow crooked. Dead spots. Age spots. Sprout in unexpected places. Work together with the worms. Spurts happen. So does nice and slow. Mysteries. Disappointment. Thrill. Life returning or succumbing to the freeze. Waiting. Wanting. Wishing. The perfect plan goes wonky. And then the wonky works.

These are things I see happening in my garden. But not in my society.

Wisdom

I can go a step further and draw the parallel between gardening and sewing. My sewing tribe knows We create. We imagine. We nourish. We use our hands to help something bloom and something in us then blooms. Furthermore,  what we hold in our hands is also from the earth. Fibers and fashion have long been part of our earth (and society’s) history. Linen, silk, cotton, rayon, wool, and yes, even polyester and nylon are part of our earth’s garden. No wonder those of us who savor the joy of grounding sensibilities treasure textiles. Of the earth, worked from the soil, created by hands, transformed into protection and clothing, they are literally a human tapestry.

On both parallels, how could I help but think of my farmer ancestors, prairie grandmothers and urban gardener mother……..and women of all the ages toiling and enjoying the peaceful contemplation of the next turned soil and plant, or stitched textile. Is one of them speaking to me through my genetics, my heritage, my spiritual composition… probably. I am in conversation with them every time I dig, pat, water, plant and snip….thread a needle, stitch and shape.

As a young fabric selling store owner, I chose denial when so many told me gardening was their reason not to sew during the summer. I put my fingers like X’s in front of my face, saying no-no-no I don’t want to hear it, please sew because I need you and sewing is good therapy too! As a business owner with zero free time, enjoying a pretty garden was a value but a few notches below sewing as my focus. Purely business, I saw that It took time away from my customers, though secretly I wished for their same rewards. Before I saw gardening as my competition. Years later, I, too, need them both for self expression and sanity.

In mid-life post D’Leas owner work….and starved for creative expression, moving dirt with anticipation of flowers in an ongoing garden plan yielded me great enjoyment, not unlike arranging a group of beautiful floral prints on a shelf in years past. I became intrigued when a lovely past customer & friend (Donna Stack, I hope you are out there reading this) spoke words she could not have known would resonate so deeply in me. I was working at The Shop at the Gardens at Denver Botanic Gardens at the time. After her garden walk, Donna said …”Sewing and buying fabric is a lot like gardening. It’s all about color and texture and seeing something grow into something beautiful.” I would add balance and design execution to that. No less expensive for sure (!) yet equally self affirming as another means of fulfilling one’s vision.

Recently, nipping and snipping from my little gardener stool, I had a moment of ease and thought “I think I’m getting the hang of this…” ..maybe similar to when I crossed over, stitching out another successful armscye, turn of cloth lapel, a lined patch pocket or perfect top stitching.

Now in retirement, compounded by The Mother Mom’s Pandemic, I am grateful to have my outdoor rooms in addition to my regular rooms to Go To and get some wisdom from the situation. Death is not only in our face daily on the news, it is quite certainly a closer new reality to wrestle with at this age. My garden is teaching me to keep growing anyway.

Every one of us of all ages, is now confronted with our personal life values, our economic and productivity beliefs, and life itself on this planet as humans. From the 1918 Pandemic to this one in 2020, the basics have changed little compared to the technology distraction. We still need to make decisions based on our humanity. Who and what is Essential. How we treat each other. I think Mother Nature just wants us to see her.  She is asking us to get back in balance.

Not everyone is lucky enough to know how to sew or have a garden but I recommend each as a source of possible solution to the grief, change and evolution in which we humans now find ourselves. Find a garden, or make one. Try some sort of fiber or cloth to grow something. Change is here. How to BE the Change is our next question mark. Guess I will look to a garden for clues…..and needed solace.

What are you learning while “in your room?”

This being human is a guest house. Every morning is a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all!…treat each guest honorably. The dark thought, the shame the malice, meet them at the door laughing and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.   RUMI

And if we come into a 2nd wave of Covid spread, may we find further inspiration of change in nature.

Autumn is my favorite time of the year. Warm days and cool nights prevail and while the frenzy of summer’s growth fades, it is replaced by a very dignified shift in texture and color. Plants dominate the discussion harking back to thousands of years’ worth of tradition around harvests and preparation for the coming winter.   Brian Vogt , CEO, Denver Botanic Gardens

Messages