As my body was regenerating, I set about revitalizing my garden.
It had been neglected for a year because of my injury. Now, looking at my garden anew this spring, I felt overwhelmed and discouraged by the weeds and overgrowth that had taken advantage of my forced neglect.
I was staring at clutter! In Feng Shui, clutter is regarded as stuck energy. Things that aren’t removed in a timely fashion and continue to accumulate are considered clutter. Think of the kitchen junk drawer, that spare bedroom or the basement – all potential clutter magnets. And the same can happen in our outdoor spaces: uncleaned flowerpots or plants that are either over-grown or situated in the wrong place, for example! Yikes! You just want to close the door, shut it out, and make it all go away! It is energy draining! And that is exactly what I was feeling as I surveyed my garden!
I had to take a deep breath and do as I suggest to my Feng Shui clients, start small! I began with a
small section of my garden and worked there until it was cleaned up and cleared out. I didn’t allow myself to become distracted by other areas calling my attention. Slowly but surely, week-by-week, I restored some sense of order by clearing out overgrowth and digging out weeds. Each week, after diligent and hard work in the garden, which also was physically challenging my body, I rewarded myself with day trips to favorite garden shops. I revitalized my garden with new plantings. I was healing my garden as my garden was healing me.
The following words, author unknown, were shared with me by another dear friend, who also has a passion for gardening. She knew I would resonate to these words, as had she.
Endlessly surprising, forever in flux, the garden is an antidote to complacency. As if for the first time, we enter the green rooms of our own making, not knowing exactly what we’ll find each day. That little jolt of pleasure at the threshold is like the shock of falling in love over and over with the same person.
The garden is a refuge, but not quite a safe haven. It is a breathing thing, and can change overnight. Between one visit and the next, a favorite perch might become carpeted with moss, a tree might be deflowered by a sudden storm, or a spider’s web might appear between two posts like a fairy tale gossamer gate that must not be defiled. We are only guests, after all …