Slow Down

Garden Grace

“Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace.”

May Sarton

My garden is poverty itself. I walk by on the way to put the garbage out and tell myself I should dig that stuff out and start over. A giant rosemary shrub has taken over half the space. There is one dead rose with rabbit brier hanging on it, a scattering of lemon balm with yellowed stems, a huddle of hosta and a clump of white iris so crowded together that they didn't bloom this year. Gardens remind us that the changing season should bring about change to all living things. In winter, they model slowing down, going in and resting.

In Alabama, it seems that there are just two seasons—summer and winter. We went from almost ninety degrees one day, to icy wind and thirty-five degrees only two days later. It was too hot to work in the garden three days ago, and now it is too cold—at least that's my excuse. Green leaves are still on the trees. They look as surprised by the sudden change as anyone else. I think it will be one of those years when they just turn brown and fall, skipping the whole business of beautiful colors.

Winter is designed to slow us down; to force us to stay inside before a fire, ponder the universe, or read a good book. Even when we venture out, the bundling up in heavy coats, hats, gloves and boots, should slow us down. It is a season for slowing down. But, we humans will crank into high gear in a couple of weeks, and begin crazy-mad shopping for the holidays, for food and gifts and decorations. We'll swim against the tide of slowing down, because that's just how we roll. We're tide-fighters. What on earth would happen if we didn't “do” the holidays? Perhaps we'd just sit down together over a nice cup of tea and talk to one another. Maybe we'd look, and listen, and pay attention to the meaning and heart of each others words, instead of worrying about whether we ordered the fresh turkey in time or polished the silverware.

Just once can we decide not to participate in the pressure cooker of the holidays, which are supposed to be all about waiting—waiting for the turning of the season—waiting for the birth of the Light into the world. Waiting...patiently...for God's Grace to come among us and bring us peace. Take a look at your garden, and let it teach you patience.

                                                     In the Spirit,

                                                         Jane