You've no doubt noticed that my garden looms large in my various blogs (and facebook and flickr, as well). I spend a lot of time in my garden, and despite random strangers thinking the front garden is an overgrown yard (the idea of a front garden is a weird one to Americans), I think there's tremendous beauty to be had in the garden.
I don't know if my perceptions of my garden match others, whether they are seeing what I see. It may be that part of the difference is that I work in it, am close up with it, see the seedlings emerge from the ground, track their growth, see in my mind's eye what will be, and that this continues throughout the growing season so that I, unlike those who view the garden from the distance, know what flowers lurk beneath the current selection blooming and can see what can be. I chart the changes day by day with my camera, and if there is such a thing, with my soul, as well.
I resonate with the changes in the garden, my heart bursts to swelling, and joy overflows, despite the dratted mosquitoes. There is the chance to see mysteries, to witness nature writ both small and large, and long swaths of time to contemplate the world and all its denizens.
I ache when I am through each day in the garden, but I know that I have had an impact, although a temporary one, on the world around me. I have nurtured something, both in the outer world and within my inner reality. I have learned to balance pride in a job well done (nothing like having someone say that hours of work haven't put a dent in the work to be done for knocking pride out) and humility that all my work can be undone in a moment by nature's whimsy. It keeps me centered, somewhat precariously, but without any of the accompanying mythical powers, like Nataraja.
(nice explanation of Shiva as Nataraja, Lord of the Dance, can be read here)
It's important to find balance, to find peace, to recognize that dance we must, and often to someone else's tune, but if we work at it enough, we can make sure the underlying beat is our own.
(text and second picture crossposted at Detritus)