There’s something about digging in the dirt that connects my brain with my heart in a real, tangible way. That’s probably why I love gardening as much as I do. It’s an enjoyable and productive way to spend my time, and checks off quite a few of my rules for a blissy life — get to source, listen to your heart, create beauty, purge regularly.
My neighbor Steve gave us some yucca plants, dug up from his front yard. I’ve heard they can be pokey; I didn’t expect one of the swords to puncture my heal and draw real amounts of blood. My initial reaction was ego driven — damn plant!
But was it the plant’s “fault” for the poke? Did it intend to hurt me? Of course not. The plant (which, if you aren’t familiar with yuccas, are gorgeous in the yard here in coastal NC climate) was simply being itself.
It was my fault, for approaching the plant too quickly, without paying attention to what that plant was trying to tell me, what it needed. I was not paying attention to that plant’s truth.
Maybe it takes a little blood being drawn to make a profound point, whether you’re a plant or a person. One thing for sure, I’ll remember this one, and use it to modify my communication style.
Next up? Seven slightly frost-bitten Rio Sambo rose bushes. I wonder what they’ll teach me?