Winter Gardening

By Joan Richards

Even though it is still early, January life is stirring, buds are forming, informing me of the places to ply my clippers and loppers and pruning saw. This will be the fourth spring shaping and being shaped by this bit of garden. I had certain grand ideas initially of how I wanted this space to be, but those have fallen away in favor of the intelligence of what has lived here far longer than I.

As I work in the garden, my eyes are my primary tools observing what work my hands are being asked to do. My outwardly-directed sensory system tunes in to the color, texture, balance and energy of the plants and soil. My hands manipulate comfortably-worn tools with sharp blades and teeth to clean up the debris. My mind evaluates and appreciates the work I have done contemplating the resulting beauty and possibilities for the coming seasons.

These past weeks, beginning just before Solstice, I have found myself exploring the patterns of thought, ways of being, habits, and old beliefs which might be draining energy from me and hindering my full flourishing today. Here, my outer sensory system is of less use. Here I turn the senses inward with my breath, resting in my third eye, observing my texture, balance and spiritual integrity to determine what might be ready for my psychic compost bin. My tools here, in addition to breath, are mantra, movement, stillness and a cultivated focus which can pierce the layer of my mind that holds patterning, accessing a deeper clearer knowing. These tools, too, with well-honed blades, cut away the detrimental, the superfluous; the already-learned lessons, the energetic weight bearing down on what might otherwise be a less vibrant and thriving self.