Fall in love with fall: an allegory for life

At the end of every winter, I begin germinating seeds indoors. It is a time that excites me, all signs around me alert my body that spring is arriving. I put so much energy into growing the seeds, nurturing them, playing music for them, singing to them like my children. I speak loving words to them, infuse the air around them with words of affirmation. Each molecule of warm air that bounces off my lips, immediately visible, into the crisp winter air is infused with love, the energy of creation. My warm, wishful invisible innermost thoughts are visible, spoken into the final cool air of winter. I know that all of these seedlings will grow big and strong, bearing beautiful, nourishing fruit. I also know that in months they will die.

There will also be some surprises every spring. There will be some vegetables, fruits or herbs that I unintentionally nurture and grow. No matter how I treat my seeds, love and nurture them, they will die, unless it is mother nature’s will for them to live again. Every fall I reinforce my own humility. I toil in the garden, putting in so much of myself, knowing that I will need to cut almost everything down to the bare soil, to make room for the next season. Letting go and having faith is one of the hardest things to do as a human. Part of being a gardener is giving up the idea of full control, knowing a formidable natural force is in control.

November is here. I have enjoyed the literal fruits and vegetables of my labor, the growing season is over, and now it’s time to get ready for next year. Every fall is a reminder to let go and let God. Like the perennials, they are going to die and return. The annuals will not come back. The fall and winter is a reminder to relax and let God. What is meant to bloom again, surely will.

My garden is a constant reminder to me that like the dark, dry leaves and rich black soil, many magical things are taking place beneath, that the eye cannot perceive. With time, you will eventually see.

Have faith.

Great things are happening that you have yet to perceive.

Happy Monday.