Much of our time was spent marveling at the way nature thrives when it’s loved and nurtured. Her petunias, the sedum, the cactus with fresh bulbs, and the orange hibiscus were luscious and breathtaking because of the care she’d taken in making their home serene and generous with just what they needed. Sitting among this life, I couldn’t help but think of how my friend’s garden so mimicked her life and the one many of us are trying to capture and create. My friend’s life is sheathed by simplicity, creativity, and contentment, traits that are all too fleeting if not totally vanished.
Lots of us spend our lives working on and toward the “ideal” life – one full of material wealth gained from working in this career or taking that job so we could acquire even more wealth. We’ve tucked away a bit here and there for our golden years so we’d have cushion to live on, travel the world if we like, and leave something to our children. It is, of course, important in this day and age to make a nest egg for ourselves and to have money and benefits enough to live on. We’re living longer lives so it’s imperative we have what we need when we enter the years after retirement from active work or whatever it is we did when we were younger.
But, we do all that at the expense of overwork, stress and its effects on our health, and the missed chance of watching daisies grow on the patio. Are we working too hard and too much to watch something as simple as the substance of a garden in bloom? Are we doing too much that we only demand our children be this because of that, and living with them in fear of this moment and a dubious and difficult tomorrow instead of encouraging them to bloom and be inspired by their innate abilities? Are you working so hard to keep your ends met that you’ve let wither that brainchild you’ve flowered for years, the one that could sprout and spread if you’d turn loose the safe yet predictable job you’ve held onto for years, the idea that haunts you and screams aloud that you should be doing it instead of working for someone else?
Of course I’m the last person who’d balk at comfort and predictability; I’m a teacher with a relatively dependable salary, benefits, and 2 months of down time. How much more predictable can you get?
But the point is, all the hard work, degrees, money saved, and things we’ve gathered aren’t getting us closer to simplicity or happiness. And there’s very little creativity attached to any of it.
When I left my friend’s, I ended up at a little pizzeria that lauded making your food fresh at the time of your order which gave me time to reflect on my visit in the garden. None of my thoughts really came together until I read a poster on the wall. Some of it read –
“The paradox of our time in history is that we ... spend more, but have less;
buy more, but enjoy it less; have more conveniences, but less time... We have
multiplied our possessions, but reduced our value. We talk too much, love too
seldom, and hate too often. We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life.
We’ve added years to life, not life to years... It is a time when there is much
in the show window and nothing in the stockroom. It is a time when we can choose
either to make a difference or languish in the paradox.”
Today I’m choosing the simple. I’m paring it down and out. And, perhaps if more of us sought what was simple and uncomplicated, our collective creativity could soar and we may even find contentment, or at least something to genuinely smile and feel good about. Or, perhaps it’s not that clear-cut; maybe there’s a lot more to it than simplicity and happiness. After all, you still have the creepy spiders, the menacing bumblebees, the rocky economy, and all the other stuff that can make life unpleasant and scary. But does that mean you can’t enjoy the garden, even till your own special place to breathe in and create newness? I refuse to think so.
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