Working in the yard; or in this case, in an orchard, that not only has fruit trees, but asparagus rows, rhubarb (nearly 100 plants), berries, and two or three large garden spots that we have planted pretty much everything we can think of in; there are many lessons to ponder.
The last couple of times I've been there, I may have an agenda in mind of what I will work on that day, or how long I will stay. That always gets derailed. There are several of us working out there cooperatively, and we all may have different ideas of what should be done, and we derail each other in a gentle pull back and forth, like kelp waving in the water with the waves. We get a little of this and a little of that worked on as we offer our helping hands to each other. And setting a time limit almost never works. Once I'm going, I'm gone till I drop, till it rains, till my husband pulls me away, or till I'm too hungry to go on. It is endless.
I also notice that some days I flow with the process much more easily than others. Some days I walk around and notice that the dandelions have literally won the war. Without using chemicals, they are stronger than I am. They grow better, and stronger, and more prolifically than anything else on that darn property. Some days I am overwhelmed to frustration and a little anger that there is so much to do, that it is never "done" and that it feels like whatever I do is never enough to keep up. I feel that way about life in general sometimes. OK, often. We are always more concerned with the destination than with the journey, aren't we?
Some days I am able to simply say, "I can work in one little spot, and make it nice, for today. The weeds will be back tomorrow." Because, quite literally, with all the rain we've had lately, they are. They almost fill in the hole you just vacated before your eyes. They mow, some section of that orchard DAILY, and rotate through, doing what they can given that they live on another property, and all have day jobs. They prune part of one tree, finish it eventually, and go on to the next in an endless dance of catching up.
I did realize, that owning such a property is not for me. I do seem to need to have a break in the action, where even for a day I can say I completed a task and it looks good and I can see the "fruits" of my labor. *I* need that. Otherwise, I begin to feel ineffective. But these lessons I am learning are important as they reflect my style and personality and approach to life back to me.
One person working the gardens, likes everything planted together in a jumble, doesn't mind the weeds, dumps them on her sections for mulch, is content to dig around in tall grass for little crops. I need tidy, weed-free rows, and things planted separately. I even eat my food separately on a plate and tend not to have items touch or overlap too much. It's fun to watch each others styles and allow them to all co-mingle as we learn where we are different, and where we are the same and to have exposure to flowing with the rhythm of another. We've all been deferring to one another to a fault, so that sometimes it is hard to make decisions because we are being SO respectful of our personal styles, and that we are on the property of another. That's way better than arguing, but can slow the process down. And that's what gardening is, a process.
Some days I can see the journey, and my small place in it, and sometimes I just want to arrive. The end. I want closure, completion, achievement. It is an excellent practice in the spiritual path. I want my path clear, tidy, predictable, and of course easy. What are all these dandelions doing in my path?? They're mocking me, I know they are. They are teaching me with humor. One person's weed is another person's salad. We COULD make dandelion wine.
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